
Pass F $4Q 
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WKnsTKU I.KVVIM; IIO.MK for KXKTKR AfATKMV. Se«' p. ■)2. 



THE 



AMERICAN STATESMAN; 



OB ILLUSTRATIONS OP 



THE LIFE AND CHARACTER 



OP 




DANIEL WEBSTER. 



DESIGNED FOB 



AMERICAN YOUTH. 



BY 



REV/ JOSEPH BANVARD, 

AOTHOB OF PLYMOUTH AND THE PILGRIMS, NOVELTIES OF THE NEW VTOBLO 
ROMANCE OF AMERICAN HISTORY, ETC. 



BOSTON: 
GOULD AND LINCOLN, 



59 WASHINGTON STREET. 



1853. 




£1-340 



Gctered, according to Act of Congre«8, in the year 1863, by 

GOULD AND LINCOLN, 

In the Clerk'* Offic* of the District Court of the District of Mtweachunetts. 



STEBEOXyPKD AT THK 
BOSTON STESEOTYPE FOUXDRr. 



PREFACE. 



The object of this volume is to present a 
sketch of the most interesting and important 
events which occurred in the history of the 
distinguished statesman who has lately passed 
away. The author makes no pretensions to the 
discovery of new facts. He has availed himself 
chiefly of the published memoirs and reminis- 
cences of Mr. Webster, amongst which were 
Daniel Webster and his Contemporaries, by 
Charles W. March ; The Private Life of Daniel 
Webster, by Charles Lanman : Personal Memo- 
rials of Daniel Webster ; Memoir of the Life of 
Daniel Webster, by Samuel L. Knapp : Biograph- 
ical Memoir of the Life of Daniel Webster, by 
Edward Everett, prefixed to Mr. Webster's 
Works, and Life and Memorials of Daniel Web- 
ster ; together with the numerous eulogies, 

5 



6 PREFACE. 

Speeches, and sermons occasioned by his de- 
cease, selecting such facts and incidents from 
each as would suit his purpose, and deducing 
from them such lessons or principles of action 
as are worthy the contemplation of those for 
whom the book is specially designed. 

That the distinguished subject of this work- 
had his faults, and that there is a difference of 
opinion as to the wisdom of some of the acts 
of his political life, no one presumes to deny. 
But it is of his commendable traits of character 
that the author here treats. These he would 
hold up for the admiration and imitation of 
American youth. He has endeavored to prepare 
a work which every American patriot would be 
pleased to have his children read. 



CONTENTS. 



CHAPTER I. 

PAQB 

The two Riders. —A pleasing Proposition. — Accepted. — A Bite. — A 
Plunge. — A Trout caught. — Daniel Webster. — His Birthplace. — 
Kearsage Mountain. —The tottling Boy. — The mysterious Well. — 
Drinking from the moss-covered Bucket. — Influence of Nature on 
Style. — Webster's Love for the Grand in Nature. — Worthy of Im- 
itation. —Pictures admired more than the original Landscapes.— 
Advice to the Young. — Influence of the Love of Nature on Char- 
acter ^^ 



CHAPTER II. 

Webster's Father. — Webster's Health. — His Education desired. — 
Providential Arrangement. — A School opened. — Teacher Chase — 
Webster's early Struggles for an Education. — Unreasonable Com- 
plaints Contrasts. — Master Tappan. — Mutual Remembrances. — 

Webster's first Letter to Tappan. — His Donation. — Master Tap- 

7 



I CONTENTS. 

pan'a Testimony. — Webster gets a Reward. — Tappan's Enthusi- 
asm. — Webster's second Letter to him. — His Example commend- 
ed. — Note. — Tappan's Death. — Teacher Hoyt. — His Character. — 
Webster's Testimony concerning him. — Webster reads to the 
Teamsters. — Domestic Scenes 23 



CHAPTER III. 

Social Libraries. — Webster's Reading. — The Mill — Daniel at the 
Mill. — His favorite Authors. — His Employment favorable for Read- 
ing. --The Constitution on the Handkerchief. — The Books he 
choSe. — His Amusements. — Freezes his Toes. — No Pleasure in 
being scolded. — Observance of the Sabbath. — Deacon True's 
Boys. — The Influence of Habit. — Webster a quick Learner. — 
Concludes to become a Teacher. — Goes to an Academy. — Impor- 
tance of Education. — Webster and the Side Saddle. — His Exam- 
ination. — He can't declaim. — Is ridiculed. — rfis two Promo- 
tions 40 



CHAPTER IV. 

A Sleigh Ride. — Affecting Incident. — Benefits of Knowledge. — 
Advice to Youth. — A Supposition. — Webster learns rapidly. — 
His Mode of Retaliation. — A Day for Pigeon shooting. — Industri- 
ous Boy. — His Habits broken. — Blistered Hands. — Groes a Berry- 
ing. — An amusing Incident. — Poorly fitted for College. — Impor- 
tance of a good Preparation for College. — False Position. — 
Webster's Ride to Hanover. — Great Freshet. — Appears before the 
Faculty for Examination. — Blue Dan. — Passes the Ordeal safe- 
ly — Enters College at the Age of Fifteen 59 



CONTENTS. 



CHAPTER V. 



9 



Webster is classed low. — He soon rises. — His Industry in College — 
Advice to Undergraduates. — College Temptations. — Their Anti- 
dote. — Webster studies Oratory. — His personal Appearance. — De- 
livers a Fourth of July Oration. — Great Britain's Injustice in the 
French War. — English Oppressions. — Battle of Bunker Hill.— 
Declaration of Independence. — Webster's Address to the Revolu- 
tionary Fathers. — Remarks upon the Oration. — He delivers a fu- 
neral Eulogy. — Mortality a Principle of Action. — Prepare for the 
Future. — Religious Suggestions "^^ 



CHAPTER VI. 

A great Gathering. — Webster's Theme at Commencement. — Howr 
collegiate Honors are distributed. — United Fraternity. — Webster 
chosen Orator. — His Oration. — Tears up his Diploma. — Studies 
with Squire Thompson. — Becomes a School Teacher. — Advan- 
tages of keeping School. — Registry of Deeds. — Where there is a 
Will there is a Way. — Fingers ache. — Volumes of Deeds.— Vote 

of Thanks. —Academy burned Aflection. — Reverence for Mr. 

Webster. — How manifested. — Continues to study Law. —Com- 
mits to Memory Orations ^ 



CHAPTER VII. 

Webster fond of Fishing. — Lovewell's Pond. — The great Fight. — Im- 
portance of Relaxation. — Mr. Webster'.s Course. — Relinquishes his 
School. — Providential Circumstance. — Mr. Webster's Progress in 



10 CONTENTS. 

Law. — His Attention to Business. — The wrong Course. — Kimball's 
Turnpilte. — Webster's Determination. — His Success. — Rule to reg- 
ulate Subscriptions. — Mr. Webster studies with Hon. Mr. Gore. — Is 
admitted to the Bar. — Mr. Gore's Commendation and Prophecy .... 101 



CHAPTER VIII. 

Has a Clerkship offered him — Declines it. — His Father displeased. — 
Pays his Father's Debts. — His filial Attachment. — Some treat their 
Parents unkindly. — Mr. Webster's first Plea. — He astonishes every 
body. — Controlling Witnesses. — The Detection. — The Character of 
his Arguments. — Webster and Mason — " Import a young Earth- 
quake " 117 



CHAPTER IX. 

A dreadful Deed General Alarm. — Attack of two Footpads. — 

Hatch's Disclosure. — Grant's Letters. — Grant arrested — The 
Knapps arrested. — The Confession. — The Plot explained. — Palmer 
imprisoned. — Crowninsliield's Signal. — Palmer's Fear. — The Tri- 
al. — Mr. Webster's Plea. — The Wicked insnare themselves. — 
Extraordinary Things — Avoid bad Company 134 



CHAPTER X. 

Mr. Webster in the House of Representatives. — His first Speech. — 
Its Impression. — Was successful. — Not in Haste to debate. — His 



CONTENTS. 11 

Qualities as an Orator. — An Attack on New England. — Webster 
and Bell. — A crowded Senate. — His Introduction. — His Allusion 
to the Old Bay State. —The thrilling Effect. — Meeting in the East 
Room. — Importance of the Speech. — Webster's transcendent Abil- 
ities. — Seventh of March Speech. — Its Effect. — Different Opin- 
ions concerning it > 173 



CHAPTER XI. 

Ezekiel Webster. — A noble Mother. — An Affecting Night Scene. — 
Fraternal Attachment. — Touching Tribute of Affection. — A beau- 
tiful Letter. — Dedications. — Living Monuments. — The Profile. — 
Mother's Garden. — Mr. Webster visits his Grave. — The Cem- 
etery. — His Remarks. — Monumental Inscriptions. — Mr. Webster's 
Poetry, "The Memory of the Heart" 199 



CHAPTER XII. 

Mr. Webster's Mirthfulness. — A playful Letter. — Mr. Choate's Pa- 
thos. — Webster's practical Joke. — Mr. Choate's poor Writing. — 
Effect of the Joke. — Mr. Webster's Trout Law. — " That ain't the 
Worst of it." — Amusing Contrast. — The Senate mterrupted. — 
Webster and the Buckeyes. — "Old Webster" and the sporting 
Snobs. — Appearances deceptive. — Webster's Wit. — Amusing Re- 
ply. — " Venerable " Trout. — Effect of Cheerfulness. — Webster's 
Spelling Book 217 



12 CONTENTS. 



CHAPTER XIII. 

Mr. Webster an early Riser. — His Letter on the Morning. — Adam's 
Mornings. — What to observe in the Morning. — Dr. Doddridge on 
early Rising. — Beauties of Marshfield. — Mr. Webster's Love of 
Trees. — He protects Birds. — His Reward. — The Quails. — He 
taraes wild Geese. — His Interest m the natural Sciences. — Pre- 
sents Audubon with Birds. — The Wall-flower. — The Sound of 
the Sea. — Lessons of Nature. — Dignity of the Study of Nature. . . . 236 



CHAPTER XIV. 

Mr. Webster's Candor. — Mr. Ketchum's Testimony — Direction to 
Mr. Everett — His Magnanimity. — Dr. Choules's Testimony. — 
Webster and Dickenson. — Webster's Eulogy on Calhoun. — Char 
acter of his Mind. — H's impressive Manner. — He will be re- 
membered. — Webster and Hayne. — How to treat Opponents. — 
Charity 953 



CHAPTER XV. 

The Human Family a Brotherhood. — Effect of little Kindnesses — 
Webster and Miss Mitford. — Influence of a Friend's Death. — Do- 
nations of Garden Seeds. — Gives away a Cow. — Kindness to Mr. 
Tappan. — Hungarian Bull. — Grores Mr. Taylor — Kossuth. — Mr. 
Webster's Present — Charles Brown's Use of Holiday Money. — 
Items in Mr. Webster's Will. — A Rebuke and Fifty Dollars.— 
The old Lady on Webster's Farm. — Another Fifty Dollars. ~Web> 



CONTENTS. 13 

rter loans a Client Money. — A touching Story of a Widow's Pov- 
erty and Mr. Webster's Benevolence 964 



CHAPTER XVI. 

Mr. Webster never out of Order. — Sings with an old Lady. — Re- 
ligious Allusions. — The Bible is " the Book." — Piety of his Brother 
Ezekiel. — An Evening Scene and Scripture Quotation. — Mr. Web- 
ster's Remarks on Job. — He prefers John. — Constant in Attend- 
ance on Public Worship. — His Opinii/n of Sermonizing. — His 
Opinion of Prayer. — Mr. Kirk's Sermon. — Mr. Webster's Remarks 
upon it. — Believer in the Atonement. — Requests Prayer on board 
a Steamboat. — Influence of Prayer. — Arithmetic of Heaven. — 
His Religious Views. — Pleased with Dr. Watts's Hymns. — Mr. 
Alden's Eulogy. — Recognition of Divine Providence. — Evidences 
of Christianity. — Writes the Inscription for his own Monument — 
Its Importance 284 



CHAPTER XVII. 

Mr. Webster's Health fails. — He retires to Marshiield. — His Strength 
decreases. — Signs his Will. — Returns Thanks. — Encourages Dr. 
Jeffries. — His Prediction. — It is fulfilled. — Arranges for the Ex- 
press. — Gives Instructions respecting his Affairs. — His last Inter- 
view with his Family. — Peter Harvey. — 24th of October. — Gray's 
Elegy — Calls in his Servants. — The Valley. — His Death. — 
Poetry 330 



14 CONTENTS. 



CHAPTER XVIII. 

Funeral of Mr. Webster at Marshfield. — Appearance of his Re- 
mains. — He is borne to the Grave by his Neighbors. — Boston in 
Mourning. — Impressive Arrangements. — Business suspended. — 

Appropriate Mottoes Funeral Obsequies in Boston on the 30th of 

November. — Address of Mr. Hillard. — Closing Quotation 339 



CHAPTER I. 

• 

The two Riders. — A pleasing' Proposition. — Accepted. — A 
Bite. — A Plunge. — A Trout caught. — Daniel Webster.— 
His Birthplace. — Kearsage Mountain. — The tottling Boy. — 
The mysterious Well. — Drinking from the moss-covered 
Bucket. — Influence of Nature on Style. — Webster's Love for 
the Grand in Nature. — Worthy of Imitation. — Pictures ad- 
mired more than the original Landscapes. — Advice to the 
Young. — Influence of the Love of Nature on Character. 

About sixty-five years ago, a man of stalwart 
form, broad shoulders, and swarthy complexion, 
was riding through Salisbury, in New Hampshire, 
on horseback, carrying with him a puny little boy, 
with dark features, sparkling black eyes, a round, 
projecting forehead, and dressed in coarse, home- 
spun clothes, with two little, shoeless feet projecting 
from beneath. The man had been indulging in 
juvenile conversation, adapted to the comprehension 
of his young charge, for some time, in which the 
little fellow had taken part, with an occasional child- 
like remark or question. As they approached a 
brook, whose clear, cool waters flowed, sometimes 
murmuringly, at other times silently, through the 
woods and fields, marking their course by a vigor- 
ous fertility, the gentleman suddenly exclaimed, 
" Dan, how would you like to catch a trout 1 " 

(15) 



16 THE TWO RIDERS. 

The little boy, who perhaps had never used hook 
and hne before, immediately signified his pleasure 
at the proposition. The horse was checked ; both 
riders dismounted, and began to prepare for the 
sport. The tall form and long arms of the gentle- 
man were specially favorable in aiding him to cut 
from a neighboring tree a rod. It would seem as 
if he were accustomed to these extemporaneous 
fishing excursions, and always went prepared for 
them ; for, thrusting his hand into his pocket, he 
drew out a string and hook ; then turning over a 
stone or two, he found a worm, which he soon ad- 
justed as bait. After fastening the line to the rod, 
he gave it to the little boy, saying, " Now, Dan, 
creep carefully upon that rock, and throw the bait 
upon the farther side of the pool." The little fish- 
erman did as he was ordered. His bait was soon 
in the water, and his eye intently watching it. It 
was not long before some indiscreet fish, thoughtless 
of consequences, darted from his concealment, seized 
the bait, and disappeared like a flash of lightning. 
This was just what the boy wanted. Being highly 
excited with his success, he gave a sudden jerk to 
the line ; but, instead of drawing the fish out of the 
water, he unfortunately lost his balance, and plunged 
headlong into the pool. The gentleman, seeing that 
the boy was more likely, from present appearances, 
to die in the water, than the fish was to expire upon 




OS 
a 

H 

CD 
P3 

M 

t-* 

ru 
o 

o 

•«3 

m 



Webster's birthplace. 17 

the land, ran to his rescue. He succeeded n reach- 
uig him and drawing him ashore, " with a pound 
trout traihng behind him." This lad was Daniel 
Webster, and the person who had him in charge 
was his own father. 

Not fai' from the place where this rather ludicrous 
incident occurred, stood, at that time, one of the 
better class of farm houses ; although, at the present 
period, and in other localities, if might be regarded 
as a very ordinary building. It was but one story 
high, with a door in the middle, and a window on 
each side, and three windovv^s at either end. It con- 
tained four rooms on the ground floor, with, proba- 
bly, chambers in the attic. An addition in the rear 
answered the purpose of a kitchen. It had only 
one chimney, and this arose from the centre of the 
roof, furnishing, probably, three or four fireplaces, 
in as many different rooms. The framework was 
of heavy timber, the exterior clapboarded, and the 
ends pointed, differing in this respect from the gam- 
brel roof. On the green in front of the house arose 
a large and graceful elm, extending its long and 
heavy branches over the mansion below, as if, in the 
exercise of an affectionate interest, it vrould protect 
it from harm. Many other trees of the same kind 
were scattered over the grounds, on which account 
the place received the appropriate name of " Elms 
Farm." Near one end of the house was a deep 



^>( 



18 HIS EARLY CHILDHOOD. 

well, with a long, old-fashioned well sweep, to one 
extremity of which was attached a bucket, by means 
of which the clear, cool water was drawn up for the 
use of the family. At a short distance, in front of 
the house, flowed a beautiful silver stream, over 
which was thrown a safe, though rough-looking 
bridge. Farther off was a high hill, crowned with 
a church, and beyond all, the lofty Kearsage moun- 
tain lifted itself, " head and shoulders " above the 
surrounding hills — a beautiful type of him, who, 
in intellectual greatness, rose far above his com- 
peers. 

In this house, on the 18th day of January, 
1782, Daniel Wel)ster was born. Now that he 
has departed, after having lived to a good old 
age, and after having acquired a world-wide fame, 
as a far-reaching statesman, a powerful orator, 
and a skilful diplomatist, it is interesting to look 
back, and contemplate the circumstances and events 
of his early life. At one time, we see him, a 
little, totthng boy, in homespun frock, making 
his first essays to balance himself upon his shoe- 
less feet, as he advances from the doorstep to 
greet his father, who has just crossed the bridge, 
and is approaching, with outstretched hands and 
rapid step, to meet him. Again we see him, amus- 
ing himself under the shadow of the friendly elm, 
that stands by the door, like a huge grenadier, 



YOUTHFUL FANCIES. 19 

guarding the entrance to a fort. A few years later, 
we behold him tripping over the fields, jumping 
across the brook, or wandering along its margin, 
with hook and line, ready to " try his luck " so 
soon as he shall have reached a place where the 
water is sufficiently still and deep to give promise 
of success. Again, wearied with his wanderings, or 
his labors, is he leaning over the well, gazing at an- 
other little boy that he sees far down in the bottom, 
and who is mysteriously looking up at him. It 
would not be strange, if at times he imagined it a 
hole cut through the earth, and that some little fel- 
low, on the other side, was, like himself, indulging 
his curiosity by looking through. A pebble drop- 
ping in disturbs the surface of the water, breaks 
the mysterious picture into a thousand fragments, 
and dispels the illusion. Again, in evening twi- 
light, we seem to see him sitting upon the door- 
sill ; and, as the noble Kearsage rises in the dis- 
tance, with its bold outline clearly defined against 
the gray-blue sky, he gives reins to his juvenile 
fancy ; and, as the ancient Hebrews " sucked honey 
from the rock, and oil from the flinty rock," so he 
drinks in inspiration from the sublimity of the ma- 
jestic mount before him. Who can tell to iiow 
great a degree he was indebted, for the simplicity, 
the directness, and the majesty of his thoughts, and 
of his style as an orator, to the noble simplicity and 



20 HIS LOVE OF NATURE. 

grandeur of this mountain ? It was not decorated 
with beautiful, terraced, hanging gardens, nor with 
graceful, luxuriant vineyards. It arose almost naked 
from the plain, as though it spurned ornament — as 
though it needed nothing but its own majestic pro- 
portions to give it grandeur ; and thus, by its own 
silent, powerful, eloquent example, it may have ? id- 
ed to impart those characteristics of thought and 
diction which give such a charm and force to the 
oratory of Mr. Webster. 

From early life Mr. Webster was fond of Nature. 
He loved sunlight and shadow, rolling hills, quiet 
lawns, turbulent streams, and placid lakes. Na- 
ture, in her milder, her gayer, or her sterner moods, 
was to him always pleasing. He was specially 
interested in the great things of creation. He de- 
liohted to travel through the wildness of mountain 
scenery. Its projecting cliffs, its high precipices, 
its deep chasms, its lightning-scarred rocks, its thun- 
dering cataracts, and its leaning, gigantic trees, with 
roots half exposed, threatening every moment to 
fall, and ofttimes executing their threatenings, — all 
inspired him with pleasing emotions and instructive 
thoughts. He loved to wander by the ocean, and 
have its huge billows roll up and lay their bubbles 
at his feet. Its vast expanse, its ceaseless restless- 
ness, its emerald hue, and the music of its roar, 
were always grateful to him. He loved to gaze 



EXAMPLE FOR IMITATION. 21 

into the unmeasured spaces above him, and contem- 
plate the stars, as immense globes swinging in their 
orbits, as if they were the mighty pendulums which 
controlled the cycles of ages, and regulated the 
mechanism of the universe. 

This love of Nature, Mr. Webster, as we have 
said, early developed. It strengthened with advan- 
cing years, and became a prominent feature in his 
character. In this respect, his example is worthy 
of imitation by the young. It seems surprising that, 
with so many objects of admiration around us, as 
are presented in the infinite variety of forms, colors, 
and combinations of natural objects, there are any 
who derive from their contemplation no enjoyment. 
Many individuals will gaze upon a picture — a land- 
scape for instance — with the greatest pleasure. Its 
rough rocks, vine-draped trees, or decaying, mis- 
shapen stumps, are pointed out as interesting fea- 
tures, equal almost to the more important combina- 
tions of hill and valley, land and water, on which 
the artist has bestowed his greatest skill. And yet. 
these same persons would ride by the original of 
that picture, executed with the infinite skill of the 
Divine Artist, and give it no attention whatever. 
O, how many magnificent landscapes are every day 
passed by, without eliciting any praise, or awaken- 
ing any admiration in the beholder ! 

Let it not be so with you. On the contrary, 



22 INFLUENCE OF NATURE. 

cultivate a taste for the beautiful objects of creation. 
Notice the colors on the petal of a flower, the infi- 
nite diversity of forms in the leaves of trees, and 
the changing effects of liglit and shade. Calmly 
contemplate the hues and shapes of the ever-shifting 
clouds, the features of the ocean, the lake, or the 
river. Form a habit of observing the peculiarities 
of natural objects in your immediate vicinity, and 
you will find your heart warming towards them. 
The scenery with which you have always been fa- 
miliar will, to your fancy, put on a new dress, and 
invest itself with more pleasing charms. This is 
not all ; for the love of Nature has an elevating 
and purifying influence. It fills the mind with en- 
nobling thoughts ; it calms the passions ; it reminds 
us of the wisdom, 'the power, the goodness, and the 
omnipresence of the Creator, and makes us more 
sensible of our own weakness, and of our entire 
dependence upon Him without whom we can do 
nothing. 



CHAPTER II. 

Webster's Father. — Webster's Health.— His Education de- 
sired. — Providential Arrangement. — A School opened. — 
Teacher Chase. — Webster's early Strug-gles for an Educa- 
tion. — Unreasonable Complaints. —^'Contrasts. — Master Tap- 
pan. — Mutual Remembrances. — Webster's first Letter to 
Tappan. — His Donation. — Master Tappan's Testimony. — 
Webster gets a Reward. — Tappan's Enthusiasm. — Web- 
ster's second Letter to him. — His Example commended. — 
Note. — Tappan's Death. — Teacher Hoyt. — His Charac- 
ter. — Webster's Testimony concerning him. — Webster reads 
to the Teamsters. — Domestic Scenes. 

The parents of young Webster appreciated the 
value of a good education. His father, knowing 
from his own painful experience the disadvantages 
of being destitute of so great a boon, was anxious 
that his children should escape a similar experience. 
He was particularly solicitous with reference to 
Daniel, who, in his childhood, was pale, weak, and 
sickly. Fearing that he would be unable to per- 
form the heavy work of a farmer, or to obtain his 
livelihood from any of the mechanic arts, he was 
the more anxious to give him as good an education 
as his circumstances would permit. May we not 
discover in these facts the development of a wise 
Providence 1 If Daniel had been a strong, mus- 
cular boy, or, being weakly, if his parents had not 

(23) 



24 • DIVINE PROVIDENCE. 

set a high value upon education, he would probably 
have been devoted to an agricultural life, and then 
the whole current of his history would have flowed 
in a channel vastly different from that which now 
marks its course. His noble speeches, his model 
state papers, his sagacious diplomacy, his legal 
knowledge, and his clear and comprehensive ex- 
positions of the Constitution of the United States, 
with all the patriotic and conservative influence 
which has followed them, would have been lost to 
the world. In what respects the present condition 
of our country would then have been different from 
what it is, how far those principles and measures 
which he opposed would have triumphed, and to 
how great a degree the adoption of the views and 
policy which he advocated would have failed, it may 
not be easy to tell. No one will deny that a great 
loss would have been experienced to literature, to 
law, and the science of civil government. This, 
however, was prevented by the providential sickli- 
ness of his youth, and the discretion of his parents. 
Truly — 

" There's a divinity that shapes our ends, 
Roug-hhew them how we will." 

At the time kittle Daniel was old enough to com- 
mence sitting at the feet of some Gamaliel, it so 
happened that no »* schoolmaster was abroad " in 



HIS FIRST TEACHER. 25 

the vicinity of his home. His mother was his teach- 
er. She gave him the key to all knowledge, by 
initiating him into the mysteries of the alphabet. 
That she was a suitable person to have the control 
of his infantile years, will be made apparent upon 
a subsequent page. 

As the neighbors, in the vicinity of Elms Farm, 
were equally anxious with Mr. Webster to secure 
the opportunities of education for their children, a 
gentleman by the name of Chase was induced to 
open a school near Mr. Webster's house. There 
was nothing particularly promising in the enterprise, 
nothing imposing in its external demonstrations. 
It was not held in a public hall, nor in an edifice 
erected for the purpose, which might be dignified 
with the name of school house, but in a hired room 
in the house of a neighbor, whose name was San- ^ 
born. To this room little Daniel was sent every 
day, to learn how to spell and read his mother 
tongue. This house has resisted the power of the 
elements, and the inroads of modern improvements, 
till the present time. It will doubtless be, in future 
vears, an attractive spot to thousands, who will de- 
sire to see the original school room where the giant 
intellect of America's greatest statesman received 
its first academic instruction. At that early period, 
by the law of New Hampshire, each town was 
divided into several school districts. Accordingly, 



26 MIGRATORY EDUCATION. 

Salisbury, the town in which Mr. Webster resided, 
contained three school houses, scattered at a distance 
of several miles from each other. In these, how- 
ever, school was not kept all the year. A teacher 
was employed by the town, who taught a tliird of a 
year in each of them ; so that the opportunity of 
education was somewhat migratory. These school 
houses were of a rude, unfinished, log-house char- 
acter, erected for use, and not for show. By this 
time they have all passed away, leaving not a trace 
behind. 

When the term arrived for the school house in 
Mr. Webster's district to be opened, it was easy for 
Daniel to attend ; but when the school was kept in 
the other districts, the young lad did not stay at 
home. With basket, or tin pail, containing his din- 
ner, he trudged away, mile after mile, over hill and 
dale, and through comparatively unfrequented roads, 
to school, and returned again at night. So highly 
did his parents value education, that they were will- 
ing to subject their children to great inconvenience 
for its attainment. It is no uncommon thinjr for 
both children and parents, in large cities, to indulge 
in complaints, if the school house happens to be sit- 
uated a half mile from their residence, although 
there are good sidewalks all the way. One might 
infer, from the tone of their remarks, that they con- 
sidered the sending of their children to school a 



MASTER TAPPAN. 27 

favor to the teacher or the school committee, instead 
of a privilege to themselves, and that therefore they 
were justified in their complaints of its distance. 
It would be well for such to remember the incon 
veniences which were endured by their forefathers, 
in obtaining what at best was only a "little school 
ing," and contrast their long and dreary walks, over 
poor roads, in all kinds of weather, their miserable 
school houses, and ofttimes their equally miserable 
teaching, with the convenient and well-furnished 
schools, and the excellent instruction of the present 
day. The number is not small of those, who, if 
they were subjected to the embarrassments which 
the feeble young Webster was obliged to surmount, 
would be discouraged, and faint by the way. 

The next teacher to whom young Webster was 
sent was James Tappan. This gentleman is still 
living, and is nearly ninety years of age. He re- 
sides in Gloucester.* Although there had been a 
separation between master and pupil for many years, 
yet they each retained a distinct recollection of each 
other. That the master should remember the 
pupil, especially when his subsequent history was 
radiant with glory, and that he should continue to 
follow his career with something of paternal pride, 
is not remarkable ; but that the scholar should re- 
tain a distinct impression of the first instructors of 

* See Note on p. 34. 



28 Webster's leiter to tappan. 

his childhood, of their characters and quahfications 
for their office, and that that impression should not 
be erased during a long series of years, filled up 
with ceaseless attention to national cares, and the re- 
ception of popular glory, may justly excite surprise. 
In 1851, Mr. Tappan, who was in reduced cir- 
cumstances, took the liberty of addressing a letter 
to his old pupil, in which he referred to his recol- 
lections of their former relation. This drew from 
Mr. Webster the following reply, in which there is 
a beautiful blending of the sentiments of friendship 

and piety : — 

"Washington, February 26, 1851. If 

" Master Tappan : I thank you for your let- 
ter, and am rejoiced to know that you are among 
the living. I remember you perfectly well, as a 
teacher of my infant years. I suppose my mother 
must have taught me to read very early, as I have 
never been able to recollect the time when I could 
..not read the Bible. I think Master Chase was my 
earliest schoolmaster, probably when I was three or 
four years old. Then came Master Tappan. You 
boarded at our house, and sometimes, I think, in 
the family of Mr. Benjamin Sanborn, our neiglibor, 
the jame man. Most of those whom you knew in 
New Salisbury have gone to their graves. Mr. John 
Sanborn, the son of Benjamin, is yet living, and is 
about your a^e. Mr. John Colby, who married my 



V 



THE DONATION. 29 

eldest sister, Susannah, is also living. On the * 
' North Road ' is Mr. Benjamin Pettingil. I think 
of none else among the living whom you would 
probably remember. You have, indeed, lived a 
checkered life. I hope you have been able to 
bear prosperity with meekness, and adversity with 
patience. These things are all ordered for us far 
better than we could order them for ourselves. We 
may pray for our daily bread ; we may pray for the 
forgiveness of sins ; we may pray to be kept from 
temptation, and that the kingdom of God may come 
in us, and in all men, and his will every vv^here be 
done. Beyond this we hardly know for what good 
to supplicate the divine mercy. Our heavenly Fa- 
ther knovveth what we have need of better than we 
know ourselves, and we are sure that his eye, and 
his loving kindness, are upon us and around us every 
moment. 

" I thank you again, my good old schoolmaster, 
for your kind letter, which has awakened many 
sleeping recollections ; and, with all good wishes, 
I remain your friend and pupil, 

" Daniel Webster. 
"Mr. James Tappan." 

The Christian sympathy and consolation which 
this letter contained were rendered doubly grateful 
to the old gentleman by a fifty dollar bank 



30 MASTER TAPPAN's ENTHUSIASM. 

which it contained ; * for Mr. Webster was not ^f 
the number of those who profess sympathy and 
withhold rehef, who say, '* Depart in peace: be ye 
warmed and filled ; notwithstanding they give them 
not those things which are needful to the body." 
He added to his professions of regard a tangible 
seal. 

Master Tappan took great delight in talking of 
his distinguished pupiL On this, if on no other 
suliject, he became enthusiastic. A gentleman, who 
in 1851 met him on the piazza of the Pavilion, 
gives the following account of him : " Master Tap- 
pan is now in his eighty-sixth year, somewhat infirm, 
but with his intellectual faculties bright and vivid, 
especially on the subject of his old pupil, whom he 
esteems the foremost man of his times, and in whose 
fame he takes a justifiable pride. 

" ' Daniel was always the brightest boy in the 
school,' said Master Tappan, ' and Ezekiel the next; 
but Daniel was much quicker at his studies than his 
brother. He would learn more in five minutes than 
any other boy in five hours.' 

" It was Master Tappan's practice to hold out oc- 
casionally some reward, in order to stimulate his 

* Hon. Edward Everett states, in a note to his Memoir of Dan- 
iel Webster, that a knowledge of this fact was obtained from h 
paper, — the Gloucester News, — to which it^was probably com- 
municated by Mr. Tappan. 



WEBSTER GETS A JACKKNIFE. 31 

scholars to their greatest exertion. In the above 
conversation, he related how his protege, at a cer- 
tain time, outstripped his competitors, and bore away 
the prize. ' One Saturday,' said he, 'I remember 
I held up a handsome, new jackknife to the schol- 
ars, and said, the boy who would commit to mem- 
ory the greatest number of verses in the Bible, by 
Monday morning, should have it. Many of the 
boys did well ; but when it came to Daniel's turn to 
recite, I found that he had committed so much that, 
after hearing him repeat some sixty or seventy 
verses, I was obliged to give up, he telling nie that 
there were several chapters yet that he had learned. 
Daniel got that jackknife. Ah ! sir, he was re- 
markable even as a boy ; and I told his father b»> 
\ would do God's work injustice if he did not send 
/ both Daniel and Ezekiel to college. The old man 
said he couldn't well afford it ; but I told him he 
must, and he finally did. And didn't they both 
justify my good opinion ? Well, gentlemen, I am 
an old man, and too much given to talk, perhaps. 
Well, good by. Beautiful place this ! Beautiful 
sea view ; and the air, how soft and refreshing ! 
But I must leave it all soon, gentlemen. I have 
been suffering from the asthma for fifteen years, and 
it is now worse than ever. God is calling us all 
home, some sooner, some later ; for me it must 



32 SECOND LETTER TO TAPPAN. 

needs be soon. But good by. Enjoy yourselves 
in this de.'ightful air. Good by ! ' And the old 
gentleman tottered away, after a monologue al- 
most verbatim such as I have recorded. It seems 
to be the one sunny spot in his old age, to 
talk of his old pupil, and to expatiate on his great- 
ness as a statesman, as an orator, and as a lawyer. 
Master Tappan alluded to the news in regard to 
the threatened difficulty with Great Britain, on ac- 
count of the north-eastern fisheries, but confidently 
remarked, ' Daniel will settle it all, so that we shall 
hold ^ur own, and have no trouble. They couldn't 
get along at all at Washington without Daniel. The 
country won't get into a scrape while it has the 
benefit of his pilotage ; be sure of that.' " 

This enthusiastic, complimentary language of the 
old gentleman, which appeared at the time in the 
Boston Evening Transcript, was read to Mr. Web- 
ster. Being in this manner reminded of his early 
friend again, then experiencing tfhe infirmities of 
disease and age, he immediately wrote the following 

letter : — 

"Boston, July 20, 1852. < 

" Master Tappan : I learn with much pleas- 
ure, through the public press, that you continue to 
enjoy life, with mental faculties bright and vivid, 
although you have arrived at a very advanced age. 



ANOTHER PRESENT TO TAPPAN. 33 

and are somewhat infirm. I came to-day from the 
very spot in which you taught me ; * and to me a 
most delightful spot ii is. The river and the hills 
are as beautiful as ever, but the graves of my father 
and mother, and brothers and sisters, and early 
friends, gave it to me something of the appearance 
of a city of the dead. But let me not repine. 
You have lived long, and ray life is already not 
short, and we have both much to be thankful for. 
Two or three persons are yet living, who, like my- 
self, were brought up 5^/6 tua ferula. They remem- 
ber ' Master Tappan.' 

" And now, my good old master, receive a 
renewed tribute of affectionate regard from your 
grateful pupil, with his wishes and prayers for your 
happiness in all that remains to you in this life, and 
more especially for your participation hereafter in 
the durable riches of righteousness. 

"Daniel Webster." 

The " renewed tribute of affectionate regard," 
alluded to, did not consist so much of the senti- 
ments of the letter, although these were peculiarly 
grateful to the old gentleman, as of a twenty dollar 
bill which accompanied them. 

The example of Mr. Webster, in giving substan- 

* This was Mr. Webster's last visit to his birthplace. 

3 



'H TEACHER IIOYT. 

tial evidence of his gratitude to an early instructor 
nierits more than a simple statement. It develops 
an element of character worthy of imitation. Too 
frequently is it the case that pupils, even when they 
have attained to manhood, use lanouao^e with refer- 
ence to their early instructors, which is expressive 
of any other than respectful or grateful feelings. 
This, to use no stronger terms, is unfortunate. The 
practice of speaking disparagingly of one's early 
teachers, whose kindness, patience, and skill may 
all have been exhausted in unwearied efforts for our 
improvement, with perhaps but little encouragement 
on our part, deserves severe censure. But we can 
imagine few things more commendable than a pu- 
pil's expression of grateful remembrance of his 
teacher, by some appropriate tribute, more signifi- 
cant than words, especially when the condition of 
that teacher is one of infirmity and poverty.* 

After our young hero left Master Tappan, he was 
sent to school to Mr. William Hoyt, the itinerant 
teacher of the town, who successively occupied each 
of the school houses a third of the time. When he 
taught in the one at the greatest distance from the 

* Since the above was wriUen, we have seen it stated in the 
newspapers, that this venerable patriarch has died, and that, in a 
few days after, his wife followed hiin to the narrow house appoint- 
ed for all the living. United in life, they were by death not long 

dded. 



hoyt's character. 'So 

Websters, Daniel was usually boarded rut in the 
vicinity of the open school, coming homC;, liowever, 
every Saturday, and returning on Monday, and gen- 
erally on foot. Hoyt attained to no great distinc- 
tion in his profession. He could teach what he 
knew, but that was very little. He excelled in the 
art of penmanship, but was deficient in every thing 
else. The most that he could do was to teach 
spelling, reading, writing, and the elementary rules 
of arithmetic. Though his advantages at this time 
were not great, young Webster made the most of 
them, so that, in the course of a couple of years, 
he had exhausted his teacher — he could learn no 
more from him. The character of this man may 
be learned from the following remarks, which were 
made by Mr. Webster, after he had attained to high 
distinction as a statesman and an orator : " William 
Hoyt was for many years teacher of our county 
school in Salisbury : I do not call it village school, 
because there was, at that time, no village, and 
boys came to school in the winter — the only sea- 
son in which schools were usually open — from dis- 
tances of several miles, wading through the snow, 
or running upon its crust, with their curly hair often 
whitened with frost from their own breaths. I 
knew William Hoyt well, and every truant knew 
him. He was an austere man, but a good teacher 
of children. He had been a printer in Newbury- 



36 WEBSTER AND THE TEAMSTERS. 

port, wrote a very fair and excellent hand, was » 
good reader, and could teach boys, and did teach 
boys, that which so few masters can or will do — to 
read well themselves. Beyond this, and, perhaps, 
a very slight knowledge of grammar, his attainments 
did not extend. He had brought with him into town 
a little property, whicli he took very good care of. 
He rather loved money — of all the cases of nouns, 
preferring the possessive ; he also kept a little shop 
for the sale of various comitiodities, in the house 
exactly over the way from this." 

But little Daniel was not dependent entirely 
upon his school teachers for instruction. His father 
was an excellent reader, and was in the habit of 
reading aloud to his family. Sometimes the book 
he selected for this purpose was the Bible ; at other 
times, when the mood prompted, it was Shakspeare, 
or the works of Pope. By hearing his father read, 
more than from the instruction he received at school, 
Daniel became a good reader. Having an excellent 
voice, and a ready perception of the meaning of a 
writer, with the ability to give the right inflections 
and emphases to develop that meaning, he was lis- 
tened to with pleasure. When he was but seven 
years of age his father kept a public house, at which 
the teamsters were accustomed to stop for " enter- 
tainment for man and beast." A part of the enter- 
tainmeiU which was then and there afforded, con- 



INTERESTING CONTRAST. 37 

sisted of specimens of reading by the young orator. 
The teamsters were accustomed, as they checked 
their horses at the door of the inn, to say, " Come, 
let's go in, and hear a psahn from Dan Webster." 
The identical house in which this tavern was kept 
is still standing. Says Mr. Lanman, in his Private 
Life of Mr. Webster, with reference to this build- 
ing, " It was only a few months ago when Mr. Web- 
ster, bending under the weight of years and a pain- 
ful illness, sat with the writer upon its little porch, 
and descanted with streaming eyes upon the various 
events associated with his boyhood's home." 

How interesting the contrast between little Dan 
Webster reading a psalm in the tavern, for the 
amusement of his rustic auditors, and the same 
Webster, more than sixty years after, sitting upon 
the porch of the same tavern, after astonishing the 
world with his eloquence, visiting foreign courts — 
a sovereign among kings ; settling, through the skil- 
fulness of his diplomacy, some of the most difficult 
questions of international government, and, after 
attaining to an eminence immeasurably higher than 
any official distinctions in the gift of the people ! 
Who, at that early period, under the influence even 
of the wildest flights of fancy, would have ventured 
to predict that the little, puny, tavern Bible reader 
would become the renowned jurist and statesman, 
and fill the world with his fame 1 What a beauti- 



38 pOME READING. 

fill illustration does this fiirnish of the influence of 
free institutions ! They not only give to genius 
room for growth, but assist its development, and 
then furnish a large field for its exercise, with the 
promise of abundant reward. 

The practice adopted by the elder Webster, of 
reading aloud from standard authors, has a highly 
beneficial effect. A father, who is a good reader, 
can do more to make his children such, than any 
teacher can, with the time usually devoted to that 
branch of education. Children are wonderfully im- 
itative. From their observation of others, they 
learn how to walk, speak, and act. If they fre- 
quently listen to good reading, they become good 
readers by mere imitation. They catch the tones, 
the cadences, the emphases, and the general man- 
ner of him to whom they listen. It was fortunate 
for young Webster that his father excelled in this 
difficult art. 

But this is not the only benefit which results from 
such practice. It assists in the cultivation of the 
taste of the children. It develops before them the 
excellences of, whatever is read. It awakens an 
attachment to such authors, and, in addition to their 
intrinsic merits, it surrounds them with the ever- 
pleasing associations of home. It also serves to make 
home attractive, and the family circle a sphere of 
jnprovement. 



BEAUTIFUL SCENE. 39 

A father surrounded by his children, and reading 
to them from the Bible, or from some standard au- 
thor, whilst the mother is engaged with her knit- 
ling or sewing, presents a beautiful domestic scene. 
Such scenes were often witnessed at Ehns Farm. 



CHAPTER III. 

Social Libraries. — Webster's Reading. — The Mill. — Daniel at 
the Mill. — His favorite Authors. — His Einplo>niient favorable 
for Reading. — The Constitution on the Handkerchief. — The 
Books he chose. — His Amusements. — Freezes his Toes. — No 
Pleasure in being scolded. — Observance of the Sabbath. — 
Deacon True's Boys. — The Influence of Habit. — Webster a 
quick Learner. — Concludes to become a Teacher. — Goes to 
an Academy. — Lnportance of Education. — Webster and the 
Side Saddle. — His E.xamination. — He can't declaim. — Is 
ridiculed. — His two Promotions. 

We have said that Webster had other sources of 
instruction besides his teachers. Amongst these 
were the books to which he had access in his father's 
iiouse, and, after tliese were exiiausted, was the vil- 
lage library. The establishment of these social 
libraries had been urged upon the attention of the 
people by Dr. Belknap, who, in his History of New 
Hampshire, says, the establishment of social libra- 
ries " is the easiest, the cheapest, and the most effect- 
ual mode of diffusing knowledge among the people. 
For the sum of six or eight dollars at once, and a 
small annual payment besides, a man may be sup- 
plied with the means of literary improvement durinjif 
his life, and his children may inherit the blessing." 
This hint commended itself to Mr. Webster, and 



Aii 



THE SAW MILL. 41 

Other gentlemen of Salisbury, among whom were 
the clergyman and the lawyer of the place, who, at 
a suitable time, acted upon the suggestion, and es- 
lablished a small library. Here young Webster was 
able to obtain the means of gratifying his love of 
reading. Among the books which he perused with 
interest w€re the Spectator, Pope's works, and va- 
rious biographies and travels. 

Near the residence of Mr. Webster was a deep, 
dark dell, covered on either side with lofty trees and 
overhanging bushes, at the bottom of which flowed 
a rapid, noisy stream, which was christened with the 
rather unpoetic name of Punch Brook. In this 
secluded place the father of Daniel erected a saw- 
mill. As lumber of different sizes was wanted for 
building and various other purposes, Mr. Webster's 
mill was in great demand, and proved to him a 
source of considerable income. Colonel Webster, 
as Daniel's ftither was called, was anxious to form 
in his children habits of industry. Although he did 
not prohibit play, he enjoined work. He often took 
Daniel, when a small boy, to the mill with him. 
Being quick to learn, and willing to practise what 
he knew, the little fellow was soon able to render 
himself quite useful to his father in the capacity 
of mill boy. He understood how to set the large 
saw, how to- raise the gate, set the machinery in 
motion, and tlien, how to attend to tlie operatioj 



•^ DANIEL A MILL BOY. 

until the long log was sawed through its whole 
ength. The sawing of a log once through occupied 
ahout fifteen minutes. It then had to he readjusted 
for the next operation. Whilst the saw was pass- 
ing tlirough the timher, the little mill boy was not 
occupied with knife and stick, whittling away his 
time ; neither did he stand in listless indolence, 
looking on to observe how slowly or how rapidly 
the saw made progress ; but, with book in hand, he 
was poring over " the best thoughts of the best au- 
thors." He was cultivating his taste, and gathering 
instruction and intellectual stimulus from the pages 
of such men as Steele, Addison, Pope, Shakspeare, 
or other valuable Avriters. " There, in that old saw 
mill, surrounded by forests, in the midst of great 
noise, which such a mill makes, and this, too, with- 
out materially neglecting his task, he made himself 
familiar with the most remarkable events recorded 
by the pen of history, and with the lives and char- 
acters of the most celebrated persons who had hved 
in the tides of time. He has never forgotten what 
he read there. So tenacious is his memory, that he 
can recite long passages from the old books which 
he read there, and has scarcely looked at since. 
The solitude of the scene, the absence of every 
thing to divert his attention, the simplicity of his 
occupation, the taciturn and thoughtful manner of 
his father, all favored the process of transplanting 



THE FAMOUS POCKET HANDKERCHIEF. 43 

every idea found in those books to his fresh, fruit- 
ful, and viii'orous mind. I have not made a visit to 
any of tlie scenes of Mr. Webster's boyhood more 
interesting than to this old mill." * 

It will be appropriate to relate, in this connection, 
another fact, for which we have the authority of Mr. 
Webster himself. In his conversation respecting his 
teacher Hoyt, a part of which is given on a preced- 
ing page, he said, "Hoyt also kept a little shop, 
for the sale of various commodities, in the house 
exactly over the way from this. I do not know 
how old I was, but I remember having gone into 
his shop one day, and bought a small, cotton pocket 
handkerchief, with the Constitution of the United 
States printed on its two sides. From this I first 
learned either that there was a Constitution or that 
tliere were United States. I remember to have read 
it, and have known more or less of it ever since. 
William Hoyt and his wife lie buried in the grave- 
yard under our eye, on my farm, near the graves 
of my own family. He left no children. I sup- 
pose that this little handkerchief was purchased 
fibout the time that I was eight years old, as I re- 
member listening to the conversation of my father 
and Mr. Thompson upon political events which 
happened in the year 1790." Another accouat 

4 

* Life and Memorial of Daniel Webster. 



44 Webster's reading. 

states that lie paid for that liantlkercliief all the 
money he had in his pocket, which amounted to 
twenty-five cents, and that the evenin<;: of that day 
was wholly emi)loyed in the careful perusal and 
study of that novel document, while seated hy the 
fireside in company with his lather and mother. 
What an interesting memento that handkerchief 
would now he, if it could any where he found ! 

In the character of the reading which this young 
lad selected, we see the direction of his mind ; and, 
as we review^ his suhsequent career, we may discover 
something of the effects which his early reading 
produced upon his mental hahits and tastes. It 
may, perhaps, have heen a fortunate circumstance 
for him that, at that time, there was no "juvenile 
literature." He was therefore obliged, if he read 
at all, to peruse works of a higher character, by 
means of which his mental powers were tasked and 
greatly strengthened. He was one of the very few 
who, at an early age, are capable of being interest- 
ed in the master spirits of literature. Many lads, 
if placed in his condition, would have spent their 
time in idleness. They have not the mental calibre 
for understanding, and perusing with interest, those 
works wdiich ofave him delight. For such children 
juvenile works furnish the appropriate nutriment. 
They can endure nothing stronger than intellectual 
milk at an aoe when Webster was digesting strong 



HIS WINTER SPORTS. 45 

meat. Care should be exercised lest they continue 
the use of such milk too long. So numerous, di- 
versified, and attractive are the juvenile books which 
are constantly falling- from the press, that some indi- 
viduals make them t.ieir exclusiv^e reading, who 
oujrht to have advanced far bevond them, and made 
themselves acquainted with the most eminent au- 
thors. Let such be rebuked by the example of the 
little mill boy of Elms Farm. 

Let it not, however, be supposed that Webster, 
in this early period of his life, was a recluse. Far 
from it. He loved healtliy, out-door sports, as well 
as other children. In nutting, squirrel hunting, 
fishing, and, when old enough, in gunning, he took 
as much pleasure as others. 

In his early years, New Hampshire was distin- 
guished for deep snows and long winters. These 
gave opportunity to Daniel to indulge in sports of 
another character — skating on the ponds, coasting 
down hill, or rolling balls, and making snow men 
and snow houses. Sometimes, so great would be 
the quantity of snow as to cover up all the rocks 
and fences, and make a smooth inclined plane from 
the top of the hill to the shore of the Merrimac, 
in the vicinity, down which he would coast with the 
swiftness of the wind, and be carried by his accel- 
erated force nearly across the frozen river. On the 
coldest^days, our little hero m ight be seen wading 



46 OBSERVANCE OF THE SABBATH. 

through the deep drifts, and crossing' the frozen 
brooks, drairirinir after him his sled, that with neigh- 
boring boys he might engage in the healthful excite- 
ment of tliis invigorating sport. On one occasion, 
so interested had he become in this amusement, and 
so unmindful of the severity of the cold, that he 
froze the toes of both his feet, and, as a penalty for 
his indiscretion, was confined to his house several 
davs, until his chilblains were healed. 

Like other boys, he would sometimes yield to the 
temptations of this sport, until it made him late at 
school, when he was sure to be reprimanded by his 
father. This led him to say, " there was great fun 
in shding down hill, but there was not much fun in 
hearinir his father scold, when he staid out of-..^ 
school to enjoy it." The young should regard it J 
\ as a settled fact, that there can be no true enjoy- |r 
y ment in going contrary to a parent's wishes. \ 

The effect of these out-door, exhilarating exercises 
was to increase the robustness and strength of the 
puny boy. 

As the parents of Webster were religious people, 
they taught their children to observe the Sabbath. 
All toys and sports were laid aside, and the day 
reverently spent in a manner that harmonized with 
the ol.ject of its appointment. Although the meet- 
ing house was four miles from their residence, yet 
Mr. Webster insisted upon his children's attelidance. 



^ 



DEACON TRUE's BOYS. 47 

To this Daniel demurred, because he was obliged to 
walk the whole distance. There was on the road a 
family by the name of True, who lived at an equal 
distance (of about two miles) from the Websters * 
and the church, and in which there were some boys, 
playfellows of Daniel, with whom he had many a 
" good time." When, therefore, Dan complained 
that he was compelled to walk so far to meeting, 
his father replied, — 

" I see Deacon True's boys there every Sunday 
regularly, and have never heard of their complain- 
ing." 

Daniel at once saw that the cases were not par- 
allel, and immediately said, — 

" Ah, yes ! the deacon's boys live half way there, 
and of course have only half as far to walk." 

" Well," rejoined his father, " you may get up 
in the morning, dress yourself, and run up to Dea- 
con True's, and go with them ; then you will have 
no farther to walk than they do." 

This reply, in which there was a vein of kindness 
and good humor, was to the lad perfectly satisfac- 
tory. It required no self-denial to run up to Dea- 
con True's and meet his playfellows, and with their 
company, the walk to the church could not be oth- 
erwise than pleasant. After this, therefore, on every 
Sabbath when the weather would permit, Daniel 
was found in his place at church, notwithstanding 



48 WEBSTER EDUCATED FOR A TEACHER. 

the four long miles. His father's wisdom, in ren- 
dering his way easy, assisted him in forming the 
habit of constant attendance upon public worship. 
It has been said that " man is a bundle of habits." 
It cannot be denied that a large part of our con- 
duct is nothing more than a repetition of acts pre- 
viously performed. By this repetition habits are 
formed. Many individuals regularly absent them- 
selves from the house of God, and others as regu- 
larly attend, from mere habit. When either of these 
jiabits is formed, a departure from it is attended 
with difficulty. We sensitively shrink from the 
violation of our estabUshed customs. This is the 
reason why individuals, who seldom attend public 
worship, find it so irksome to go, and so uninterest 
intr when there. This fact furnishes a strong in- 
ducement for the formation of a habit of constant 
attendance upon the services of the sanctuary ; for, 
when formed, it will become to us a kind of second 
nature, which will prevent our absence from public 
worship except from necessity. 

In consequence of the constitutional weakness of 
young Webster, it appeared impossible for him to 
0-aiR a livelihood by hard labor. His father, there- 
fore, resolved to qualify him for the important, but 
less arduous, duty of school teacher. This had 
been suggested to him by Mr. Thompson, a lawyer 
who boarded in Mr. Webster's family, and who had 



GOES TO PHILLIPS ACADEMY. 49 

iiiven Daniel some lessons in the Lntin Grammar. 
The ease with wliicli he committed these lessons to 
memory, and his general quickness of apprehension, 
induced Mr. Thompson to advise his father to send 
liim to an academy, for the purpose of qualifying 
him as a sclioulmaster. The mother was pleased 
with the suiji^estion, and uri^ed its adoDtion. His 
brother Joseph, who was then of age, also f'vored 
it. He jocosely assigned as a reason, that, " as Dan 
had not such bright natural talents as his brothers 
and sisters, a little education would perhaps make 
up the deficiency." The father consented. He 
supposed tliat, according to the customs of the times, 
his son would teach school in the winter, and work 
on the farm, if his health allowed, in the summer. 
As this course had been found profitable by some 
of the families in town, he inferred that it would 
result in no loss to his own. He therefore -gave 
consent, little dreaming of the important results 
which were destined to flow from his decision. 

At that time no academical institution stood 
higher in New England than Phillips Academy, 
in -Exeter. It had been handsomely endowed by 
John Phillips, LL. D., after whom it was named, 
whose donations and bequests to it amounted to a 
hundred and fifty thousand dollars. This large sum 
made it independent of the income which might be 
received for tuition from the pupils. To this insti- 



50 > PATRIOTIC BENEFICENCE. 

tutioii Colonel Webster determined to send Daniel. 
It was a most fortunate circumstance for the rising^ 
republic of the United States, that, immediately after 
the war for independence, the attention of the peo- 
ple was directed, in different parts of the country, 
with more than usual interest, to educational affairs. 
Such was the genius of the new institutions to which 
that inde])endence gave rise, and so great was the 
controlling power of the people in political affairs, 
through the elective franchise, that it was apparent 
to all reflecting persons, that general intelligence 
among the masses of the people was essential to the 
heakhful working and the perpetuity of the new 
forms of government. Not only, therefore, did state 
legislatures, and the municipal officers of the various 
towns, give special consideration to educational mat- 
ters, but wealthy gentlemen, under the influence of 
patriotism, contributed freely of their own private 
funds for the endowment of schools and colleges. 
As, in many respects, the system of government in 
the United States was unlike any other that then 
existed, or had ever been known to exist, — as it was 
an experiment, on a magnificent scale, of the capa- 
bilities of a nation for self-government, under pecu- 
liar laws, — it was essential for the success of the 
experiment that a class of men should be raised up 
who would be able to take correct and comprehen- 
sive views of all parts of the complicated machinery, 



AN IMPORTANT DAY. 51 

who should understand all the relations and inter 
ests of the country as a whole, and of the individual 
states of which it was composed, and then be able 
clearly to unfold them to otliers. For this purpose 
schools of an elevated character were required, in 
order to discover those who possessed the natural 
talents for this work, and then, by appropriate cul- 
ture, to fit them for the exercise of their talents, in 
those departments of influence, whether at the bar, 
on the bench, or in halls of legislation, where they 
would render the greatest amount of service to their 
country. Such an institution was Exeter Academy. 
It has had the honor of assisting" in the education 
of many who have risen to high distinction in the 
various professions, and who have wielded a vast in- 
fluence over the destinies of their country. Dr. 
Phillips, by its endowment, rendered essential ser- 
vice to the interests of the new republic. To this 
school young Webster was sent. 

The 24th of May, 1796, was an important day at 
Elms Farm. There had been more than usual bus- 
tle in the house ; clothes were collected, bundles 
tied ; children were running to and fro, asking ques- 
tions and making all kinds of remarks — the reason 
of which was, Daniel was getting ready to leave for 
the academy. As Mr. Webster had no chaise, or 
other light carriage adapted to the journey, it was 
to be made on horseback. It so happened that one 



52 A PARTING SCENE. 

of the neighbors was desirous of sending a horse 
and side saddle to tlie very town where tlie acatlemy 
was situated, for some female friend there, to ride 
back to SaHsbury. It was agreed that this horse 
should be used by tlie young student. When the 
time of departure arrived, the two horses were 
brought to the door, and Daniel, who was dressed 
in a new suit of homespun materials, was lifted upon 
the one intended for him. Imai»ine tlie scene ! 
The atfectionate mother, who has all along had a 
presentiment of Daniel's greatness, stands at the 
door, with mingled expressions of solicitude and joy 
depicted U])on her countenance : she has given abun- 
dant good advice, and sealed it with not a few burn- 
ing kisses. Around are the other children and 
members of the family, some holding the horses, 
others adjusting the bundles, and all abandoning 
their mirthfulness, and becoming more serious as 
the moment of departure arrives. The last shake 
of the hand and farewell kiss are given, and the 
two travellers set out on their journey, — little Dan 
being perched upon the lady's side saddle, where he 
was destined to become, before night, more fatigued 
than he had ever been before. After a romantic, 
but tiresome ride, along the banks of rivers, through 
valleys, and amid lofty hills and inountains, on the 
third day they arrived at Exeter. A boarding place 
was obtained for Daniel in the family of Mr. Clif- 



WEBSTER BEFORE DR. ABBOTT. 53 

ford, with whom his father had some acquaintance. 
The d«y after their arrival he was taken to the 
academy. Benjamin Abbott, LL. D., was the prin- 
cipah He was a gentleman of the old school, and 
felt it important to maintain great dignity and a 
regard to form, in the administration of the school. 
All official duties were performed with pompous cer- 
emony. When Colonel Webster stated the object 
of his visit to the doctor, who was seated in a large 
hall connected with the academy, that important 
personage placed upon his head a cocked hat, in 
order to make a suitable impression upon the lad, 
and then said, — 

" Well, sir, let the young gentleman be presented 
for examination." 

The slender-looking boy modestly came forward, 
and, though every thing was new and strange, he 
submitted to his examination with great self-pos- 
session. • 

" What is your age 1 " asked the venerable 
teacher. 

" Fourteen," was the reply. 

" Take this Bible, my lad, and read the twenty- 
second chapter of Luke," at the same time pointing 
it out to him. 

This chapter contains an account of the institu- 
tion of the Lord's supper, Christ's sufferings in 
Gethsemane, the betrayal, the seizure, and the ex- 



54 ins DIFFIDENCK. 

ami nation of Christ. Its cliiTereiit parts required a 
different style of reading-. None but a *rood reader 
could do tlie cliapter justice. Daniel took the book 
and read with so much distinctness of enunciation, 
correctness of emphasis, and skill in the modtda- 
tions of iiis voice, as to brin<i^ out the true sense 
of the passage, — the doctor had no occasion to 
interrupt him. It was a beautiful specimen of read- 
ing. After he had finished the chapter, the doctor, 
without asking any questions whatever, said, — 

'* Young man, you are qualified to enter this in- 
stitution." 

The new student remained at this academy nine 
months. His diligence, and his capacity for acquir- 
ing knowledge, secured for him not only the warm 
commendations of his teachers, but, whfit was better, 
a jjood knowledice of the branches to which he de- 
voted attention, among which, in addition to the 
usual Enorlish branches, was the Latin lanofuaoje. 

It is not easy always to predict the man from the 
indications of youth. With some there appears to 
be, in early life, a deficiency of the very traits iu 
which they excel in later years. This was true of 
Webster. Althouoh his fame as an orator is world- 
wide, yet, when a boy of fourteen, he could not 
summon sufficient courage to attempt to declaim 
before the school. His ovrn account of this singular 
fact is in the followins; words : " I believ^e I made 



PERSEVERANCE COMMENDED. 55 

tolerable progress in most branches which I attended 
to while in this school ; but there was one thing I 
could not do — I could not make a declamation ; I 
could not speak before the scbool. The kind and 
excellent Buckminster sought especially to persuade 
me to perform the exercise of declamation, like oth- 
er bovs ; but I could not do it. Many a piece did 
I commit to memory,. and recite and rehearse in my 
own room, over and over again ; yet when the day 
came, when the school collected to hear tlie decla- 
mation, when my name was called, and I saw all 
eyes turned to my seat, I could not raise myself 
from it. Sometimes the instructors frowned, some- 
times they smiled. Mr. Buckminster always pressed 
and entreated most winningly that I would venture 
— venture only once; but I never could command 
sufficient resolution." 

From any other witness, this would appear almost 
incredible. It is difficult to conceive how one who 
has been so highly distinguished for self-reliance and 
moral courage, as Mr. Webster, should have been 
so singularly deficient in these traits when young 
It was attributable, probably, in a great degree, to 
his physical debility. He subsequently surmounted 
it, and, as we shall see, became in college one of 
the most popular speakers. What encouragement 
does this furnish for the young to set themselves 
resolutely to work to surmount any difficulty that 



56 THE student's promotion. 

prevents their advancement ! By frequent repetition, 
by firm resolution, they may overcome embarrass- 
ments which woukl otherwise prove fatal to their 
success. Notliing can resist a determined spirit. 

When Webster first entered the Phillips Academy, 
he was made, in consequence of his unpolished, 
country-like ajjpearance, and because he was placed, 
at the foot of the class, the butt of ridicule by some 
of the scholars. This treatment touched his keen 
sensibility, and he spoke of it with regret to his 
friends where he boarded. They informed him that 
the place assigned him in the class was according to 
the standing- regulations of the school, and that by 
diligence he miglit rise above it. They also advised 
him to take no notice of the laughter of the city 
boys, for after a while they would become weary of 
it, and would cease. The assistant tutor, Mr. Em- 
ery, was informed of the- treatment which Webster 
received. He therefore treated him with special 
consideration, told him to care for nothing but his 
books, and predicted that all would end well. This 
kindness had the desired effect. Webster applied 
himself with increased diligence, and with signal 
success. He soon met with his reward, which made 
those who had laughed at him hang their heads with 
shame. At tiie end of the first quarter the assistant 
tutor called up the class in their usual order ; he 
then w alked to the foot of the class, took Webster 



HIS SECOND PROMOTION. 



57 



by the anil, and marclied liim, in front of the class, 
to the head, where, as he placed him, he said, 
" There, sir, tliat is your proper place." This prac- 
tical rebuke made those who had delighted to ridi- 
cule the country boy, feel mortified and chagrined. 
He had outstripped theiii. This incident greatly 
stimulated the successful student. He applied him- 
self with his accustomed industry, and looked for- 
ward with some degree of solicitude to tise end of 
the second term, to see whether he would be able 
to retain his relative rank in the class. Weeks 
slowly passed away ; the end of the term arrived, 
and the class was again summoned to be newly ar- 
ranged, accordino' to their scholarship and deport- 
ment, as evinced daring the preceding term. Whilst 
they were all standing in silence and suspense, Mr. 
Emery, their teacher, said, fixing his eye at the 
same time upon the country boy, " Daniel Webster, 
o-ather up your books and take down your cap." 
Not understanding the design of such an order, 
Daniel complied with troubled feelings. He knew 
not but that he was about to be expelled from school 
for his dulness. His teacher perceived the expres- 
sion of sadness upon his countenance, but soon dis- 
pelled it by saying, " Now, sir, you will please pass 
into another room, andjoin a higher class : and you, 
young gentlemen," addressing the other scholars, 
" will take an affectionate leave of your classmate, 



58 WHO WERE THE CITY BOYS ? 

for you will never see htm again ! " As if he had 
said, " This rustic hid, wliom you have made the 
butt of ridicule, has ah'eady so far outstrij)ped you 
in his studies, that from your stand-point he is 
dwarfed in tlje distance, and will soon be out of 
sight entirely. He lias developed a capacity for 
study which will prevent yoi. from ever overtaking 
him. As Ji classmate you will never see him again." 
It would be interesting to know who those city 
boys were, who made the young rustic an object of 
sport. What have they come to ? — what have they 
accomplished ? — who has heard of the fame of their 
attainments ? Scholars should be careful how they 
laugh at a classmate because of his unpolished man- 
ners or coarse raiment. Under that rough exterior 
may be concealed talents that will move a nation 
and dazzle a world, when they in their turn might 
justly be made a laughing-stock, on account of their 
inefficiency. 



CHAPTEPv IV. 

A Sleisrh Ride. — Affecting Incident. — Benefits of Knowledge. — 
Advice to Youth. — A Supposition. — Webster learns rapidly. — 
His nnode of Retaliation. — A day for Pigeon shooting. — In- 
dustrious Boy. — His Habits broken — Blistered Hands. — Goes 
a Berrjing. — An amusing Incident. — Poorly fitted for Col- 
lege. — Importance of a good Preparation for College. — False 
Position. — Webster's Ride to Hanover. — Great Freshet. — 
Appears before the Faculty for Examination. — Blue Dan. — 
Passes the Ordeal safely. — Enters College at the age of 
Fifteen. 

After leaving Exeter Academy, Webster was 
placed under the care of Rev. Samuel Woods, D. D., 
of Boscawen. This change was probably made for 
economical reasons, as Dr. Woods gave instruction 
and board to lads for only one dollar per week, 
which was less than the expenses at Exeter. He 
was now in his fifteenth year, with a fair knowledge 
of the English branches, and a considerable ac- 
quaintance with the Latin. 

On his way to Dr. Woods's, an interesting inci- 
dent occurred, of which Mr. Webster himself has 
given the account. It seems that his father, through 
the kind suggestions of others, who had discovered 
the innate powers of Daniel, had come to the conclu- 
sion to send him to college. But this determination 
he did not reveal to his son till he wis on the way 



f «» 



60 AN IMPORTANT ANNOUNCK.MKNT. 

to Dr. Woods's. The announcement deeply afFect- 
ed him. 

It wns in tlie depth of winter. The ground was 
covered with deep snow. Wel)ster and liis father 
were traveling in a New England sleig;h, common- 
ly called a imng. As they were ascending a hill, Mr. 
Wehster told Daniel that he was i!roin<»' to send him 
to college. This sudden and unexpected announce- 
ment overcame the lad. This was an honor to 
which, in his most ambitious moments, he had never 
aspired. To be *' college learned," in those days, 
was a passport to the most intelligent and refined 
society. It was regarded as a preparation for any 
of the professions. It at once gave an individual a 
respectable position in society ; and whilst it dev^el- 
oped all the capacities which he possessed, it was 
supposed to impart others, of which he was previ- 
ously destitute. The relative position of a college 
graduate, at that time, was far liigher in the commu- 
nity than now, when their number is so greatly in- 
creased. 

A lad of fourteen, who had been acquainted with 
but very few who had been favored with a collegiate 
education, and who regarded them with a veneration 
above that which he cherished towards other men, 
could not have been otherwise than deeply moved at 
such a communication. To use his own language, 
«' I could not speak. How could my father, with so 




YOUNG WEBSTER ON THE WAT TO BOSCAWEN. 



AN AFFECTING SCENE. 61 

large a family, and in such narrow circumstances, 
think of incurring- so great an expense for me 1 A 
warm glow ran all over me, and I laid my head on 
my father'?, shoulder, and wcpty He wept from ex- 
cess of iov ! How different were his feelinsfs from 
those of many at the present day, who, when the 
privilege of a collegiate course of education is of- 
fered them, regard the proposition as a great afflic- 
tion, and cry from sorrow ! They are unwilling to 
avail themselves of henefits which others would 
highly value. They do not appreciate them ; the 
golden opportunity they throw away ; and proba- 
bly, at some future period, when it is too late to 
repair the disaster, they will deeply regret their 
folly. 

If this book should fall into tlie hands of any such 
youth, we would say to them. Look forward to the 
future. Remember, you will not always be boys. 
You are in a ^^iw years to take your place amongst 
men, and in order to be qualified to exert much in- 
fluence over them, you must be educated. You 
are now placed in an enviable position ; by rightly 
improving your advantages, you will qualify your- 
selves to occupy important stations ; you will be fit- 
ted to move, and to feel at liome, in the most intel- 
ligent circles. Your opinions will be respected ; 
they will have weight with others. Your advice will 
he sought in important matters. Y'ou will be looked 



02 GET KNOWLEDGE. 

to to fill places of trust and responsibility. You 
will honor yourselves and your families. And it is 
not impossible for you to attain to high distinction in 
any of the learned professions, or to- reach some of 
the most honorable and responsible positions in the 
state or national governments. Who would have 
supposed that, when that puny lad from the back- 
woods of New Hampshire was made an object of 
ridicule by the " city boys," that he would ever 
reach the exalted stations he did, and after filling the 
world with the splendor of his ekxpience and states- 
manship, would be followed to the grave by tlie re- 
grets of millions ? It is no more unlikely, now, that 
you may acquire distinction, than it was in his case, 
when he Mas of your age. But suppose that he liad 
disliked study ; suppose that, when his father, as 
they were ascending that hill in a cold winter's day, 
informed him that he mii>ht sro to colle":e, he had 
expressed an unwillingness, and had dis?:uaded his 
father from his purpose ; what would Daniel Webster 
have been now 1 He might possibly, by the force 
of his natural talents, have excelled in any kind of 
business to which he would have devoted himself; 
but is it probable that he would ever have been a 
senator of the United States, or a member of the 
president's cabinet ? Indeed, on one occasion, — 
as we shall presently relate, — his own father assigns 
as a reason why Jie was not elected a member of 



COMMENDABLE RETALIATION. 63 

Congress, instead of his successful competitor, was 
because of his want of e'ducation. 

During tiie time that Webster was with Dr. 
Woods he always gave satisfactory recitations. But 
he found it so easy to learn that the preparation of 
his lessons occupied but a short time ; he consequent- 
ly had much leisure, which he spent in the indul- 
gence of his love of nature, in fishing and gunning. 
With rod or gun in hand, he spent hour after hour 
in wandering along the streams, or rambling over 
the fields. His teacher, who had but little sympathy 
for these employments, administered to him a rebuke 
for his wandering habits, tempering it, however, with 
compliments for his quickness in learning. He was 
fearful that this fondness for out-door sports might 
exert an injurious influence upon the other students. 
Webster felt this rebuke, and determined to retaliate 
in a way that would tax the doctor's patience. His' 
lesson for the next day was a hundred lines in Vir- 
gil. He applied himself diligently, and occupied a 
good portion of tlie night, not in sim])ly learning 
those hundred lines, but in committing to memory- 
many more. At the recitation next morning, he 
despatched the hundred lines, for whicli he received 
the commendation of his teacher. " I can recite 
some more," said the student. " Go on, then," was 
the reply. Another hundred lines were repeated. 
The teacher was equally surprised and gratified. 



64 TlfE BETTER WAY. 

*' But T have not done yet," said Web.<ter ; " I can 
give you aiiother hundred hues, and another liundred 
beyond that ; I can give you fvc hundrfd ; lean re- 
cite to the end of the twelfth book." The teacher 
was amazed ; he had not time to hoar so mucli ; 
his breakfast had for some time been Maitins: for 
him, and he was impatient to be at it. This was g 

what Webster had anticipated, and where he had 
intended to tax the old «fcntleman. He was deter- 
mined to retain him so Ions: in hcarin"^ liis recitation 
as to make him have a late breakfast ; but the | 

teacher would not wait : after praising* his ])upil for * 

his industry, he asked to be excused from listeniii*^ to 
him any lonofer, and said, " You may have the whole 
day, Dan, for pigeon shooting." Dan rambled to 
his heart's content that day, without any compunc- 
tions of conscience, or any fear of rebukes from the 
doctor. 

How much better that mode of retaliation was 
than for him to liave thrown aside his books in a fit 
of passion, and played the dunce for a few days ! 
In that case the punishment would have been ex- 
exclusively his own. 

Prior to the time that Daniel left home, in order 
to pursue his studies, he was industrious to the ex- 
tent of his physical strenutli. He assisted his father 
at the mill ; he v/orked with the men in the fields 
driving the horse in ploughing, pitching hay, or run- 



DANIEL BLISTERS HIS HANDS. 65 

niiig of errands; but after having been away from 
home a number of months, these habits of industry 
were broken up, and when lie returned to the old 
homestead, it was more agreeable for him to play 
than to work, as the following incident will show. 

Whilst he was studying at Boscawen with Dr. 
Woods, his father on one occasion sent for him to 
come home. Haying season had arrived, and he 
needed more assistance than usual at Elms Farm. 
The young lad packed up his clothes, and complied 
with his father's orders. The day after his arrival, 
he went into the field to work, the father in the 
mean time visiting a neighboring town on business. 
Before the forenoon was expired, Daniel returned to 
the house, and told his mother that he was greatly 
ftitigued ; and holding up his hands, he showed blis- 
ters, which, he said, would prevent him from working 
any more. His affectionate mother excused him, as 
he probably anticipated ; but Dan had no idea of 
losing the whole day ; so, after dinner, he tackled the 
horse to a wagon, placed into it two of his sisters, 
and drove off to a well-known berry pasture, where 
they expected to find an abundance of whortle, or 
huckleberries. Here he spent the remainder of the 
afternoon, as boys, under such circumstances, know 
how. 

When his father returned home at night, and 
ascertained how his son had spent the day, instead 
5 



66 RETURNS TO SCHOOL. 

of flying into a violent passion, lie langlied over the 
matter, and sent his tender son to hed. After break- 
fast was over, tlie next morning, being convinced 
tiiat he would obtain but little assistance from his 
son, and not being willing to detain him uselessly 
from his studies during term time, his father ])ut 
into his delicate hand his bundle of clothes, and 
pointed, in a maimer too significant to be misunder- 
stood, towards Boscawen. The boy immediately 
started olF. He had not gone far before he saw one 
of the neighbors, Mr. Thomas W. Thompson, who 
knew why he had come home. 

*' \yhere are you going, Dan ? " he asked. 

" Back to school," was the reply. 

" I thought it would be so," added Mr. Thomp- 
son, with an expressive smile upon his countenance. 

And back to the company of Virgil and Cicero 
did the young student return. 

Pronounce not harsh judgment upon this piece 
of juvenility in Daniel. He seems to have com- 
menced work with hearty good will, but not having 
been engaged in vigorous, muscular employment for 
some months, he soon became blistered and tired. 
Even then he did not throw aside his rake and fork 
and run off, with the intention of showing his blis- 
tered hands to his father in the evening, as his apol- 
ogy.. But, as a child in his circumstances should 
have done, he related the whole case to his mother, 



i 



IS FITTED FOR COLLEGE. 67 

and obtained her permission to leave the field. And 
when he found a long afternoon on his hands, instead 
of strolling oflf alone, with fishing pole or gun, he 
tackles the horse, and, like an affectionate brother, 
takes his two sisters a berrying — an amusement in 
which children take great delight. 

It may be settled as a general fiict, that but little 
physical labor can be expected of students, either 
during term time or vacations. They leave their 
studies, not for work, but relaxation, and under these 
circumstances continuous physical exertion soon be- 
comes irksome to them. It is truly a hardship when 
students are obliged to work through their whole 
vacations, in order to defray the expense of their 
education. 

Master Webster pursued his studies with Mr. 
Wood from February till August, 1797, and fitted 
himself, imperfectly however, for college. His time 
of preparation was too limited for him to do it well. 
" Still, however," says Hon. Edward Everett, in his 
Biographical Memoir, " when we hear of a youth 
of fifteen preparing himself for college by a year's 
study of Greek and Latin, we must recollect that 
the attainments which may be made in that time, 
by a young man of distinguished talent, at the pe- 
riod of life when the faculties develop themselves 
with the greatest energy, studying night and day, 
summer and winter, under the master influence of 



G8 A GRKAT MISTAKE. 

hope, ambition, and necessity, are not to l)e meas- 
ured by the tardy progress of the thouf^htless or 
languid children of prosperity, sent to school from 
the time they are able to go alone, and carried along 
by routine and discipline from year to year, in the 
majority of cases without strong personal motives 
to diligence." 

This limited degree of preparation for college 
studies was to Webster a great disadvantage. It 
subjected him to embarrassments during his whole 
course, from which his classmates derived advantage. 
He often spoke of it, in subsequent years, with 
regret. 

It is a great mistake in young men to imagine 
they have gained a year, when they enter college 
poorly fitted, by which means they are able to grad- 
uate a year earlier than they otherwise would have 
done. They lose in scholarship w^hat they gain in 
time. 

A young man who commences a college course 
poorly qualified meets ofttimes with difficulties which, 
though insuperable to him, his classmates easily sur- 
mount. This places him in a somewhat false posi- 
tion, especially if such difficulties frequently occur, 
for it gives him the appearance of possessing less i 

intellectual power or acumen than the others, when 
such is not the case. It arises simply from the fact 
that th«' subject is comparatively new to him, but, 



Webster's joutr-ney to hanover. G9 

Jii consequence of their longer course of prepara- 
tion, during- which the same subject was studied and 
reviewed, it is fainihar to thein. Still the unfortu- 
nate student is obliged to go limping after his class, 
with a painful feeling of mortification and despond- 
ency ; and if he succeed in obtaining a diploma, it 
is as much as he expects. Any particularly honor- 
able position is out of the question. Yet the same 
individual, if he had been well qualified for entrance, 
might have led his class in all their studies, and 
graduated with the highest honors. We commend 
these considerations to the attention of those who 
are so impatient to enter college as to shorten their 
period of preparation. 

When the time arrived for the student of Elms 
Farm to visit Dartmouth College, for the purpose 
of being- matriculated, a neighbor made for him a 
!iew suit of clothes, — coat, vest, and pantaloons, — 
all of homespun cloth of the deepest blue. He made 
his journey on horseback, — not this time, however, 
on a side saddle. On his way he was overtaken by 
a violent rain storm, which lasted forty-eight hours, 
created a freshet, bore away the bridges, and sub- 
jected him to the necessity of travelling round the 
country twenty extra miles, in order to find a cross- 
ing-place over the streams. When he arrived he 
was completely soaked with the rain. The new 
garments which he wore seem not to have been 



70 HIS EXAMINATlOiV AND ADMISSION. 

made of ftist colors, for upon examination Mr. Web- 
ster found that the indigo hue, after penetrating all 
his under clothing*, had deeply dyed his skin, so that 
instead of being a green country boy, he was de- 
cidedly blue. After a little attention to his toilet, 
he presented himself before the faculty for examina- 
tion. After having given an account of the oppor- 
tunities for study of which he had availed himself, 
— the books he iiad read, the branches he had at- 
tended to, and after answering the questions which 
they proposed, — he told them of the difficulties he 
had experienced in reaching Hanover. " Thus," 
said he, "you see me as I am" — referring to his 
cerulean appearance — " if not entitled to your ap- 
probation, at least to your sympathy." He has 
since said of himself, when alluding to that inter- 
view, that he " was not only black Dan, but blue 
Dan." Very fortunately, that change of color \y'o& 
not produced, as in the case of some others, by the 
rejection of the faculty. 

The object of Daniel's visit to Hanover was ac- 
complished. He safely passed the ordeal which 
students so generally dread, and was admitted a 
member of the Freshman class in Dartmouth College 
in August, 1797, at the age of fifteen. 



CHAPTER V. 

Webster is classed low. — He soon rises. — His Industry in Col- 
lege. — Advice to Undergraduates. — College Temptations. — 
Their Antidote. — Webster studies Oratory. — His personal 
Appearance. — Delivers a Fourth of July Oration. — Great 
Britain's Injustice in the French War. — English Oppres- 
sions. — Battle of Bunker Hill. — Declaration of Independ- 
ence. — Webster's Address to the Revolutionary Fathers. — 
Remarks upon the Oration. — He delivers a funeral Eulogy. — 
Mortality a Principle of Action. — Prepare for the Future. — 
Religious Suggestions. 

In consequence of liis imperfect preparation for 
collegiate studies, Webster was obliged to take a 
low place in his class — it is said, the foot. To a 
mind constituted like his, that would have been an 
affliction, provided he had gone over the same pre- 
paratory course with the rest of the class. So far 
was this from being the case, that some of the text 
books used in colleg-e he had never seen, while other 
members of the class were familiar with them. 
What to him was the breaking? of entirelv new 
ground was to them a mere retracing of old paths, 
which they had repeatedly traversed before. In the 
Latin language he was at home. This had always 
been to him a favorite study. To the Greek he was 
not particularly partial. For mathematics he had 

71 



72 Webster's preeminence in college. 

special fondness, though lo both these latter branches 
he devoted the usual amount of attention, and made 
respectable progress. With ancient and modern 
geograpliy and history, and witli logic, he was Iiighiy 
delighted. During his course in college he did not 
confine himself to the routine of specified studies, 
but indulged in a wide range of reading in English 
literature and history. lie also assisted in conduct- 
ing a weekly paper, by making selections for its 
columns, and occasionally contributing an original 
article. It was not long before he reached that 
commanding eminence among his fellows, to which, 
by his towering talents and great attainments, he 
was justly entitled. The faculty, as well as the stu- 
dents, by the respect with which they treated him, 
and the deference they paid his opinions, yielded 
their willing testimony to his extraordinary abiUties. 
He thus illustrated the truth, that every person, 
however false may be the position in which, by a 
combination of unfortunate circumstances, he is at 
any time placed, may, by persevering industry, find 
his true level. 

What his habits were in colles^e we learn from 
tfie follow. ng witnesses. Professor ShurtlifF, who 
was in the same class with him, says, " Mr. Webster, 
while in college, was remarkable for his steady hab- 
its, his intense application to studi/, and his punctual 
ft.tten-'"'':^o upon oil the !)?T'?;rrihpd exercises. F 



HIS CHARACTER IN COLLEGE. 73 

know not that he was absent from a recitation, or 
from morning and evening prayers in the chapel, or 
from pubhc worship on the Sabbath ; and I doubt if 
ever a smile was seen upon his face during any re- 
ligious exercise. He was always in his place, and 
with decorum suited to it. He had no collision 
with any one, nor appeared to enter into the con- 
cerns of others, but emphatically minded his oivn busi- 
ness. But, as steady as the sun, he pursued with in- 
tense application the great object for which he came to 
college. This I conceive was the secret of his popu- 
larity in college, and his success in subsequent hfe." 
What an example is here furnished for undergrad- 
uates and all other young students ! If they desire 
to acquire popularity with their companions, or 
"success in subsequent life," they must, like the 
subject of our memoir, be distinguished for " steady 
habits and intense application to study." They must 
mind their oimi business^ and keep constantly before 
them the great object for which they are pursuing a 
course of education. To do all this is no easy task. 
Temptations to deviate from this straightforward, 
single-minded course are numerous and strong. 
They spring out of one's natural indolence ; froni 
the difficulty of acquiring knowledge ; from the 
enjoyments of social intercourse ; from the en- 
ticements of the wine cup; and from the excitement 
of the passions. There are circumstances in which 



74 TEMPTATIONS. 

a Student may be placed, where, unless he posses-^ 
great decision of character and firmness of purpose, 
he will certainly be led astray. He will not be able 
to resist the strong current of evil influences which 
will bear down upon him. This, however, will not 
be likely to be the case with those who, like Web- 
ster, in addition to devoting themselves diligently to 
study, are punctual and serious in their attendance 
upon morning and evening prayers, and upon the 
public services of the Sabbath. It furnishes an un- 
favorable augury to any young man's future pros- 
pects, when these religious duties are neglected. 

Another witness, who bears testimony to 3Ir. Web- 
ster's position in college, is Judge Woodward, pro- 
fessor of natural philosophy, who died soon after 
Mr. Webster was graduated. " That man's victory 
is certain," said he, " who reaches the heart through 
the medium of the understanding. He [i. e., Mr. 
Webster] gained me by combating my opinions, 
for I often attacked him, merely to try liis strength." 
It would be interestinij to know what some of those 
questions were on which the judge tested the strength 
of his pupil, and what line of argument was pur- 
sued by the latter. There can be no doubt, judging 
from the effect produced upon the professor's mind, 
that, in these intellectual contests, Webster exhibited 
great logical power, combined with dignity and cour- 
tesy. He secured the respect of his teacher by his 



HE STUDIES ORATORY. 75 

skill and gentlemanly bearing in debate, and induced 
hira, very early after their first acquaintance, to pre- 
dict his future greatness. The judge considered it 
a great privilege to be the instructor of one of so 
much promise. Says General Lyman, " He took 
infinite pleasure in assisting to lay the foundation 
stones of what he felt was to be a magnificent 
building." 

While at college, Mr. Webster devoted special at- 
tention to the study of oratory. He made himself 
famihar with its fundamental principles, and with the 
speeches of those who had excelled in this delightful 
art. Having a deep, yet musical voice, a command- 
ing personal appearance, a high, projecting forehead, 
and dark, piercing eyes, and conducting himself with 
great dignity of manner, and with courteous defer- 
ence to his hearers, he was always listened to with 
pleasure. He became so popular as a speaker, that 
when only sixteen years of age, he was chosen to 
deliver an Oration on the Fourth of July, to the 
members of college and the citizens of Hanover. 
This, certainly, was a high honor to reach at so early 
an age, and it was, if possible, increased by the re- 
quest for the publication of the oration, from those 
who heard it. It shows that he produced a strong, 
favorable impression. 

As this was the first public address delivered by 
Mr. Webster, of wliich any record has been pre 



76 HIS FOURTH OF JULY ORATION. 

served, it is a source of gratification that it was 
printed, and that one copy, at least, of the original 
edition has survived to the present time. Of this 
General Lyman has made copious use in his ^* Me- 
morials." It is exceedingly interesting to read this 
oration, and comj)are the tone of its patriotism, 
and the style of its composition, with those of his 
later productions. It will he seen that, though his 
rhetoric was afterwards greatly modified, his love of 
country remained unaltered. 

We cannot, perhaps, perform a more acceptable 
service than by presenting several extracts from 
it, in order to furnish the reader an opportunity of 
making this comparison for himself. His introduc- 
tion was as follows : — 

" Countrymen, Brethren, and Fathers : We are 
now assembled to celebrate an anniversary ever to 
be held in dear remembrance by the sons of freedom. 
Nothing less than the birtii of a nation — nothing less 
than the emancipation of three millions of people 
from the desfradinjr ciiains of foreion dominion — is 
the event we commemorate. Twenty-four years 
have this day elapsed since these United States first 
raised the standard of liberty, and echoed the 
shouts of independence. 

" Those of you who were then reaping the iron 
harvest of the martial field, whose bosoms then pal- 
pitated for the honor of America, will at this time 



Britain's injustice. 77 

experience a renewal of all that fervent patriotism, 
of all those indescribable emotions, which then agi- 
tated your breasts. As for us, who were either then 
unborn, or not far enough advanced beyond the 
threshold of existence to engage in the grand con- 
flict for liberty, we now most cordially unite wiih 
you to greet the return of this joyous anniversar}*, 
to welcome the return of the day that gave us free- 
dom, and to hail the rising glories of our country ! 

" On occasions like tliis, you have hitherto been 
addressed from the stage, on the nature, the origin, 
the expediency, of civil government. The field of 
political speculation has here been explored by per- 
sons possessing talents to which the speaker of the 
day can have no pretensions. Declining, therefore, 
a dissertation on the principles of civil polity, you 
will indulo:e me in slightly sketching those events 
which have originated, matured, and raised to its 
present grandeur this new empire." 

After describing the isolated and gloomy condi- 
tion of the first colonists, he touches upon the 
French war, in which he accuses Great Britain of 
" presumptuously arrogating to herself the glory of 
victories acquired by the bravery of the American 
militia," and then adds, — 

«' But while Great Britain was thus tyrannically 
stripping her colonies of their well-earned laurels, 
and triumphantly weaving them into the stupendous 



78 ENGLISH OPPRESSION. 

wreath of lier own martial glories, she was uiiwit- 
tinofly teaching them to value themselves, and eflect- 
ually to resist on a future day her unjust encroach- 
ments. 

»' The pitiful tale of toxofion now commences: 
the unhappy (juarrel which resulted in the dismem- 
berment of the British enipire htis here its origin. 

'* England, now triuni{)hant over the united 
powers of France and Spain, is determined to re- 
duce to the condition of slaves her ^Vmerican 
subjects. 

'* We might now display the legislatures of the 
several states, together with the General Congress, 
petitioning, praying, remonstrating, and, like dutiful 
subjects, humbly laying their grievances before the 
throne. On the other hand, we could exhibit a 
British Parliament assiduously devising means to 
subjugate America, disdaining our petitions, tram- 
pling on our rights, and menacingly telling us, in lan- 
guage not to be misunderstood, ' Ye shall be slavesJ* 
We could mention the haughty, tyrannical, .perfidious 
Gage, at the head of a standing army ; we could 
show our brethren attacked and slaughtered at Lex- 
ington ! our property plundered and destroyed at 
Concord ! Recollections can still pain us with the 
spiral flames of burning Charlestown, the agonizing 
groans of aged parents, the shrieks of widows, or- 
phans, and infants. 



DECLARATION OF INDEPENDENCE. 79 

" Indelibly impressed on our memories still live 
the dismal scenes of Bunker's awful mount, the 
grand theatre of New England bravery; where 
Slaughter stalked grimly triumphant, where relent- 
less Britain saw her soldiers, the unhappy instru- 
ments of despotism, fallen beneath the nervous arm 
of injured freemen. 

" There the great Warren fought, and there, alas ! 
he fell. Valuing life only as it enabled him to 
serve his country, he freely resigned himself, a will- 
ing martyr in the cause of liberty, and now lies en- 
circled in the arms of glory. 

" But, haughty Albion, thy reign shall soon be 
over ! Thou shalt triumph no longer ; thine em- 
pire already reels and totters ; thy laurels even now 
begin to wither, and thy fame to decay. Thou hast 
at length roused the indignation of an insulted peo- 
ple ; thine oppressions they deem no longer toler- 
able. 

" The 4th day of July, 1776, has now arrived, 
and America, manfully springing from the torturing 
fangs of the British lion, now rises majestic in the 
pride of her sovereignty, and bids her eagle elevate 
his wings ! 

" The solemn Declaration of Independence is now 
pronounced, amidst crowds of admiring citizens, by 
the supreme council of our nation, and received with 
the unbounded plaudits of a grateful people. 



80 WEBSTER ADDRESSES THE OLD SOLDIERS. 

" This was the hour when heroism was proved — 
when the souls of men were tried." 

At this point 3Ir. Webster gracefully turned to 
the revolutionary soldiers who were present, and 
addressing them, said, — 

" It was tlien, ye venerable patriots — it was then 
you lifted the indignant arm, and unitedly swore to 
be free ! Despising such toys as subjugated empires, 
you then knew no middle fortune between liberty 
and death ! 

" Firmly relying on the protection of Heaven, 
nawarped in the resolution you had taken, you then 
undaunted met — engaged — defeated the gigantic 
power of Britain, and rose triumphant over the ag- 
gressions of your enemies. 

" Trenton, Princeton, Bennington, and Saratoga 
were the successive theatres of your victories, and 
the utmost bounds of creation are the limits of your 
fame ! The sacred fire of freedom, then enkindled 
in your breasts, shall be perpetuated through the 
long descent of future ages, and burn with undi- 
minished fervor in the bosoms of millions yet un- 
born. 

" Finally, to close the sanguinary conflict, to 
grant America the blessings of an honorable peace, 
and clothe her heroes with laurels, Cornwallis, at 
whose feet the kings and princes of Asia have since 



HIS ALLUSIONS TO WASHINGTON. 81 

thrown their diadems, was compelled to submit to 
the sword of Washington. 

"The great drama is now completed ; our inde- 
pendence is now acknowledged ; and the hopes of 
our enemies are blasted forever. Columbia is now 
seated in the forum of nations, and the empires of 
the world are amazed at the brio:ht efFulncence of her 
glory." 

After contrasting the peaceful and prosperous 
condition of this country with the unsettled state 
of Europe, he refers to those revolutionary heroes 
who had died, and says, — 

" With hearts penetrated by unutterable grief, we 
are at length constrained to ask, Where is our Wash- 
ington 1 Where the hero who led us to victory ? 
Where the man who gave us freedom 1 Where is 
he who headed our feeble army, when destruction 
threatened us, who came upon our enemies like the 
storms of winter, and scattered them like leaves be- 
fore the Borean blast ? Where, O my country, 
is thy political savior 1 — where, O humanity, thy 
favorite son ? 

" The solemnity of this assembly, the lamenta- 
tions of the American people, will answer, ' Alas ! 
he is no more — the mighty is fallen ! ' 

" Yes, Americans, Washington is gone ! — he is 
now consigned to dust, and sleeps in ' dull, cold 
marble ' ! 

6 



88 PUBLIC GRIEF AT HIS LOSS. 

" The man who never felt a wound but when it 
pierced his country — who never groaned but when 
fair Freedom bled — is now forever silent. 

*' Wrapped in the shroud of death, the dark do- 
minions of the grave long since received him, and 
he rests in undisturbed repose. Vain were the at- 
temj)t to exi)ress our loss ; vain the attempt to de- 
scribe the feelings of our souls. Thoujch months 
have rolled away since his spirit left this terrestrial 
orb, and sousfht the shining worlds on high, vet the 
sad event is still remembered with increased sorrow. 
The hoary-headed patriot of '76 still tells the mourn- 
ful story to the listening infant, till the loss of his 
country touches his heart, and patriotism fires his 
breast. The aged matron still laments the loss of 
the man beneath whose banners her husband has 
fought, or her son fallen. At the name of Wash- 
ington the sympatlietic tear still glistens in the eye 
of every youthful hero ; nor does the tender sigh 
yet cease to heave in the fair bosom of Columbia's 
daughters." 

These extracts are sufficient as specimens of his 
production on that occasion. Without indulging in 
any elaborate criticism, we cannot refrain from say- 
ing, that the Saxon simplicity, and the terseness, for 
which Mr. Webster in later years was so remarkable, 
must have required on his part a great amount of 
persevering labor. 



m 



REMARKS UPON THE ORATION. 83 

In reading the above passages it must be remem- 
bered that we are not perusing the language of Hon. 
Mr. Webster, member of tJie Senate of the United 
States, but of Daniel Webster, an undergraduate 
of sixteen years of age, and member of the junior 
class at Dartmouth. As such, it is a credit to its 
author. To be enabled to appreciate it fully, we 
need the impassioned tones, the eloquent eye, the 
manly gesture of the orator ; we need to be sur- 
rounded with the audience to whom it was delivered, 
— students, professors, revolutionary heroes, young 
men and maidens, old men and children, — who 
listened, smiled, and vociferously applauded the ju- 
venile speaker. We need the soul-inspiring music, 
and all the excitement of the national anniversary. 
But without these, it is not difficult to discover 
gleams of that genius which broke forth with such 
dazzling splendor in the maturity of his years. It 
showed that the rich veins of the marble were there, 
and required only the labor of the sculptor to de- 
velop the forms of beauty, and give it the smooth- 
ness of surface of which it was capable. It was 
like a few grains from a mine which had not been 
worked, but which furnished conclusive evidence 
that an abundance of pure gold was there. One 
who remembers the occasion says, that the oration 
produced a great sensation. 

On the 17th of April, 1801, Ephraim Simonds, a 



84 A classmate's funeral ELT.OGY. 

member of the senior class iu college, was prema- 
turely cut down by death. It was deemed desirable 
to make a religious improvement of the event, by 
having a eulogy delivered by one of his classmates. 
No one being so popular amongst the students as 
Mr. Webster, he was chosen for that purpose. The 
painful nature of the event, combined with the tal- 
ents of the orator, drew out a large audience. The 
house was completely crowded. After the prehmi- 
narv services were over, Mr. Webster addressed the 
assembled multitude in a dignified and solemn man- 
ner. In his exordium he referred to his deceased 
fellow-student thus ; — 

" All of him that was mortal now lies in the char- 
ncls of yonder cemetery. By the grass that nods 
over the mounds of Sumner, Merrill, and Cook, 
now rests a fourth son of Dartmouth, constituting 
another monument of man's mortality. The sun, 
as it sinks to the ocean, plays its departing beams 
on his tomb, but they reanimate him not. The cold 
sod presses on his bosom ; his hands hang down in 
weakness. The bird of the evening shouts a mel- 
ancholy air on the poplar, but her voice is stillness 
to his ears. While his pencil was drawing scenes 
of future felicity, while his soul fluttered on the gay 
breezes of hope, an unseen hand drew the curtain, 
and shut him from our view." 

The eulogy was listened to with deep emotion, 



i 



REFLECTIONS AND PRINCIPLES INVOLVED. bo 

as was evinced by the tearful eyes of the assem- 
bly. 

There is something- pecuharly affecting in the 
death of a young man, while pursuing his course of 
education. The world, with all its posts of honor 
and usefulness, presents itself before him. He is 
stimulated by patriotism, philanthropy, and amotion, 
to qualify himself for some of its many attractive 
spheres of action. Surrounded by others in a simi- 
lar condition, he is influenced, also, by a spirit of 
emulation. He is at tlie same time the object of 
deep parental solicitude, and, it may be, of the hopes 
of a larjre circle of interested relatives and friends. 
Whilst pressing on diligently to the goal which he 
has set before him, he is arrested by disease, and 
laid low in the grave ! His sun goes down whilst 
it is yet day. He is like a vessel richly freighted, 
which, whilst she is getting ready to leave the har- 
bor for the broad ocean before her, strikes upon 
concealed rocks, and becomes a wreck ; or like a 
young cadet, who, whilst studying, in a military 
school, the science of war, and acquiring skill in 
military tactics, is suddenly cut down without ever 
seeing an actual engagement. Bright visions of fu 
ture distinction, which had lured him on, have faded 
aw^y, and the hopes of parents and friends are 
blasted forever. As no young man has any guar- 
anty of immunity from *i similar catastrophe, it 



86 DUTIES WITH REFERENCE TO THE FUTURE. 

becomes important that all such make tlicir mortal- 
ity a prominent principle of action. ' Wiiilst pre- 
paring themselves to occupy honorable positions in 
this life, they should remember the fleeting charac- 
ter of these distinctions, and not pursue them with 
an ardor disproportionate to their real value. Much 
less should they allow the present to shut out from 
their view the distant future. As this life is prepar- 
atory to another, farther on, the highest wisdom con- 
sists in availing ourselves of the transient present, 
in such a manner that we shall be well fitted for the 
unchangeable future which awaits us. In doing 
this, we shall be acting upon a principle similar to 
that which governs us in our temporal affairs. The 
student at college, the apprentice at a trade, the 
merchant, the mariner, the professional man, — are 
all acting with reference to the future. By indus- 
try, prudence, and economy, they are endeavoring 
to acquire a competency, so that at no future period 
shall they be reduced to want. They are providing 
for the time to come. If this be a wise principle of 
action with reference to our present existence, can 
it be unwise in its application to that period of our 
being which lies beyond the grave ? Why provide 
for all the future which intervenes between the pres- 
ent moment and the period of our death, and en- 
tirely neglect preparation for that which is beyond 
death ? Does not consistency require that, if we do 



<t 



M 



RELIGIOUS ADVICE. 87 

the one, we do the other also ? In this respect does 
consistency mark your course, reader 1 With all 
your learning, see to it that you get that knowledge, 
the beo-inning of which is the fear of the Lord, and 
with all your accumulation fail not to lay up treas- 
ures in heaven, on which you may draw when all the 
riches of the earth shall have passed away. 



ciiapti:r VI. 

A great Gathering. — Webster's Theme at Commencement. — How 
collegriale Honors are distributed. — United Fraternity. — Web- 
stcr chosen Orator. — His Oration. — Tears up his Diploma. — 
Studies with Squire Thompson. — Becomes a School Teacher. — 
Advantages of keeping School. — Registry of Deeds. — Where 
there is a Will there is a Way, — Fingers ache. — Volumes of 
Deeds. — Vote of Thanks. — Academy burned. — Aflectioii. — 
Reverence for Mr. Webster. — How manifested. — Continues lo 
study Law. — Commits to Memory Orations. 

During the last week in August, 1801, Mr. Web- 
ster was jrraduated. An unusual niuuber of stran- 
gers visited Hanover at the time. They commenced 
coming" early in the week, and continued to increase 
until the important day arrived when the senior stu- 
dents were to bid farewell to the classic shades of 
Dartmouth College, and scatter for the purpose of 
seeking their fortunes. At that time college com- 
mencement was regarded as an occasion of far 
greater importance, and it awakened an interest 
throughout a much wider extent of country than 
now. Gentlemen and ladies, arrayed in their gay- 
est attire, poured into the town, some on horseback, 
single, and others on horseback in couples, the lady 
riding behind .the gentleman on a pillion. Some 
came in a more imposing manner, with horse and 

88 



X, 



A GREAT GATHERING. 89 

carriage, the harness newly cleansed, and the vehi- 
cle newly varnished ; others felt it a privilege to 
ride in an open wagon on a temporary rough board 
seat ; whilst, in some instances, groups of the young ' 
men and blooming damsels preferred to ride stand- 
ing up in a large hay cart, which they decorated with 
evergreens and flowers for the purpose. It was a 
great gala day, and brought out people in vast 
numbers. 

It was expected by the students that Webster 
on that occasion, would have had one of the most 
honorable parts. It is said that in their judgment 
he deserved the highest. But the faculty decided 
otherwise, and assigned him a subordinate position. 
His theme was " The recent Discoveries in Chemis- 
try, especially those of Lavoisier," which were then 
recently made public. 

The assignment of parts at commencement does 
not depend entirely on scholarship, or studious ap- 
plication. The professors take into consideration 
the whole deportment of the students, their attain- 
ments, their punctuality at prayers, at the recitations 
and the lectures, and their degree of observance of 
all the comparatively trivial rules which are laid 
down for the government of the college, and then 
graduate their honors according to the degree in 
which all the requirements of the faculty have been 
observed. ' 



90 THE INDUSTRIOUS STUDENT SUCCESSFUL- 

Mr. Lanman states tliat tlie valedictory on this 
occasion was conferred upon one " whose name 
has since passed into forgetfulness." If this be true, 
it shows that the colle<^e does not make the man. It 
is one thing to excel in the quiet retirement of clas- 
sic cloisters, but quite a different thing to be a victo- 
rious cliampion in the great battle of life. It can 
seldom be predicted with accuracy from a young 
man's position in college what he will be when he 
enters upon the arena of the world. It is not un- 
usual for some to startle their fellow-students with 
what appears to be the bright scintillations of prom- 
isino- oenius, and to take the lead in the recitations 
of the class. As they pass on their luminous course, 
predictions of future eminence follow them — pre- 
dictions which a few years are sufficient to show were 
uttered by those who had never received the gift 
of prophecy. After bidding farewell to their alma 
mattr, their flame of precocious genius is soon 
quenched, and they are heard from no more. 
Whilst others, who exhibited no particular brilliancy 
during their collegiate course, but were simple, 
every-day, plodding students, by keeping up their 
industrious, studious habits in subsequent life, attain 
to areat eminence. They make themselves both 
heard and widely felt. 

There are, however, occasional instances where the 
' boy shado vs forth the man, when discreet and expe- 



ANOTHER HONORABLE APPOINTMENT. 91 

rienced observers can foretell, from early indications, 
approaching greatness, as from the stock and branch- 
ing of the young tree can be predicted its, character 
at maturity. Such was the case with Mv. Webster. 
Those who had been observant of his course whilst 
at Dartmouth looked forward with confidence to his 
success in future years. 

Though he failed of obtaining the principal part 
at commencement, he secured in another respect the 
highest honors of the day. 

There were at Dartmouth several literary and re- 
ligious societies, composed of the niembers of the 
colleo;e, whose anniversaries were held durinfj com- 
mencement week. Before each of these societies 
some member was chosen to deliver the annual ad- 
dress. The largest and most important of these so- 
cieties was that of " The United Fraternity." To 
be chosen the orator for this association was, there- 
fore, a higher distinction than to be selected as the 
speaker for eitlier of the others. At the time he 
graduated, Mr. Webster was unanimously chosen to 
perform this honorable service. The public ad- 
dresses which he had on previous occasions delivered 
had given liim a l.igh reputation. No other student 
could attract so large an audience. No other could 
have met the expectations which were awakened by 
the announcement that he was to be the orator of 
the day. 



^ \ 



92 TEARS UP HIS DIPLOMA. 

When the hour arrived lor tlie coininenceinent of 
the service, the house was filled. Mr. Webster sus- 
tained hisj^revious reputation ; he acquitted himself 
nobly. His sub 2ct was " The Influence of Opin- 
ion," and was well adapted to develop the strength and 
peculiar qualities of his mind. One of the newspa- 
pers of the day said that " elegance of composition 
and propriety of delivery distinguished the perform- 
ance," and that " a numerous audience manifested a 
high degree of satisfaction at the genius displayed." 

After the honors of the college had been con- 
ferred, and Mr. Webster had received his diploma, 
properly signed and sealed, certifying that he had 
pursued the usual course of study, he invited a num- 
ber of his classmates to go with him to a place of 
some retirement'in the rear of tlie church. Wlien 
they reached the place, Mr. Webster held up the di- 
ploma before them, and said, " My industry may 
make me a great man, but this miserable parchment 
cannot." He then deliberately tore it into pieces, and 
threw it away ; then, bidding his fellow-students fare- 
well, he mounted his horse, and set out for Elms 
Farm. 

Although this act was not particularly amiable, 
it developed certain traits of character which were 
conspicuous in Mr. Webster's subsequent career. It 
exliibits the same moral courage, independence, and 
self-rel ance which mark his whole course. It also 






I 




WEBSTER'S ORATION. 



94 WEBSTER BECOMES A TEACHER. 

and the talents which you possess, and it is required, 
of stewards that a man be found faithful. Industry 
in the right direction may make you great and use- 
ful ; without that your collegiate privileges will not. 

After completing his college course, Mr. Webster 
commenced the study of law with his father's old 
neighbor, Mr. Thompson, who so significantly 
laut^hed when Daniel was sent hack to school dur- 
inff havinjr time, because he had blistered his hands. 

Having been so great an expense to his father, 
Webster now felt the imi)oitance of doing something 
for his own supj)ort. 

It was not long before he had the opportunity. 
An academy had been recently founded at Frye- 
burg, in the State of Maine, and was in want of a 
teacher. The trustees, who had received a favora- 
ble report of Mr. Webster, through Professor .lolm 
Smith, extended to him an invitation to become its 
principal, with a salary of three hundred and fifty 
dollars. * This was cheerfully accepted, and the 
young student was soon engaged -in the perplexing 
. vocation of a schoolmaster. This new occupation 
was advantageous to Mr. Webster in several respects. 
Although its pecuniary benefit was not great, being 
less than a common, unskilled day laborer now re- 
ceives for the lowest kind of employment, it fur- 
nished him an opportunity of observnig the various 
phases of human nature, and studying the principles 



ADVANTAGES OF TEACHING. 95 

of human action. His school was a httle world in 
itself, filled with miniature men, possessing as great 
a diversity of dispositions as the same number of 
adults, susceptible of the same passions, and influ- 
enced by similar motives. He had, tlierefore, an 
opportunity of learning how to move, minds, and thus 
of acquiring knowledge which would be of valuable 
service to him in future life. He taught the chil- 
dren, and the children taught him. It may not be 
easy to say who were the most benefited. He 
learned what he never could have acquired in the 
lecture room or college, nor from books. That 
school was to him an eminently instructive volume, 
of which each child was a page, from which might 
be received some important lesson. It was an in- 
tellectual and moral ap])aratus, by the skilfisl use of 
which he might try experiments and arrive at re- 
sults, respecting the mind and lieart, far more im- 
portant than any conclusions which could be reached 
in either of the physical sciences. 

It also served to develop himself If there is any 
one employment that, more than another, will aid a 
man in learning what manner of spirit he is of, it is 
school teaclung. This brings out the strong and the 
weak points of character. It calls into exercise in- 
nate elements, which, under other circumstances, 
might have remained dormant for years. Self- 
knowledge is in some respects the most difficult 



96 webstp:r's personal appearance. 

and the most important of all knowledg"e. Some 
advance may be made in it by self-examination. 
But wlio indulges in tliis exercise ? — who deals 
faithfully with himself? — who is willing to drag his 
" secret sins " before the clear and steady gaze of 
his own contemplation 1 — who measures correctly 
the dimensions of his admitted defects? — who probes 
deeply the diseased spots ? Tt is too painful — we 
shrink from it. Yet it is desirable that a person 
should know the evil tendencies of liis character as 
well as the good — yea, far more so, for these evil 
tendencies he must specially guard and perseveringly 
resist, but the others he may let take care of them- 
selves. 

The employment of Mr. Webster as a teacher 
rendered him essential aid in detecting those el- 
ements of character in himself which needed re- 
straint, and those which required cultivation. It 
also gave him an opportunity of reviewing the stud- 
ies which he pursued in college, and discovering in 
what branches he was defective, the possession of 
which was essential to a good teacher. 

Those who have ever had a near view of Mr. 
Webster will not forget his large, lustrous, dark 
eyes. These constituted a prominent feature in the 
early part of his life. Persons who were acquainted 
with him in college refer particularly to them. He 
was once qjiestioned by Mr. Lanman as to his per 



HE REGISTERS DEEDS. 97 

sonal appearance, when officiating as principal of 
Fryeburg Academy. His reply was, " Long, slender^ 
pale, and all eyes ; indeed, I went by the name of 
«^//e3/e5' the country round." The significant ap- 
propriateness of this appellation cannot be denied. 

When Mr. Webster found that his duties as 
teacher did not require the whole of his time, he 
sought additional employment. He had gone to 
Fryeburg from pecuniary considerations, and was 
' willing to engage in any honorable occupation which 
promised an addition to his limited resources. For- 
tunately the office of Assistant Register of Deeds 
was vacant, and he was invited to perform its du- 
ties. This he accepted, which gave him employ- 
ment for all his leisure hours. His duty was to 
copy deeds into a large folio volume, for which he 
received twenty-five cents each. There are at the 
present time, in the office at Fryeburg, two large, 
bound volumes of manuscript deeds, in his neat and 
elegant handwriting. He has been heard to say, 
that " The ache is not yet out of those fingers which 
so much writing caused them." It, however, brought 
him in a little income, which he devoted to the edu- 
cation of his brother. 

The old adage that " Where there's a will there's 
a way," was illustrated in this part of Mr. Webster's 
history. He was willing to work. He was not par- 
ticular about the kind of labor in which he engaged, 
7 



98 RELICS OF HIS LABOR. 

provided it was reputal)le. When the offer of be- 
ing a copyist of deeds was tendered, he did not de- 
cline because of its sedentary character or limited 
compensation. If he could not earn much, he was 
content with little. He was determined to do some- 
thing, and something was presented. This was a 
much wiser course than though he had lost much 
time in waiting for something easier or more profit- 
able to offer. There are some individuals desiring 
employment, who, unless they can obtain a berth • 
which is satisfactory in all respects, prefer to remain I 

unoccupied. If the time which they lose in looking ^^ 

for a desirable situation was devoted to such engage- f 

ments as offer, they might find enough to do — and 
of that which would afford them a reasonable com- 
pensation. This was Mr. Webster's course, and it 
is worthy of imitation. 

A short time since, Mr. Webster's son, accompa- 
nied by a friend, visited Fryeburg. As might be 
expected, they were attracted to the office of the 
registry of deeds, that they might see the evidences 
of his industry in early life. These evidences were 
furnished in the two hu^e folio volumes to which 
we have referred. After examining these with in- 
terest, and being astonished that so great an amount 
of labor could be performed, in addition ta the ar- 
duous service of superintending a school, they turned 
their attention to the record of the trustees of the 



i 



THE ELOQUENT LOT. 99 

academy, and there discovered satisfactory proof 
that this extra employment did not interfere with 
tlie faithful performance of his duties as teacher. 
This proof consisted in " a most respectful and 
affectionate vote of thanks and good will to Mr. 
Webster, when he took leave of the employment," 
which they found upon the record. This evinced 
the high estimation in which he was held by the 
trustees of the academy. 

There was one thing which they did not see, 
which, if it had been in their power, they would 
have examined with great gratification — and that 
was, the old school house in which Mr. Webster taught. 
This had been consumed to ashes many years be- 
fore. Such is the affectionate reverence in which 
Mr. Webster is held, that the owner of the land on 
which the academy stood, Mr. Robert J. Bradley, 
would never permit any other edifice to be erected 
upon the spot, and he is determined that none shall 
be so long as he has control of the lot. This de- 
voted friendship was cherished also by his father, 
. who had probably previously owned the estate. The 
non-occupation of that site, therefore, is evidence 
of refined sentiment. The silence of its desolation is 
eloquently expressive of the ardent attachment of its 
owner to him who, many years before, commenced 
his self-support by there keeping school. 

Whilst at Fryeburg, Mr. Webster managed, also, 



100 



Webster's application. 



to secure time for the reading of law, and commit- 
ting to memory important yjassages from the 
speeches of distinguished orators. Being unable 
to buy, he was obliged to borrow Blackstone's Com- 
mentaries, which he then read for the first time. 
He also committed to memory the celebrated speech 
of Mr. Aines, on the British treaty, wliich he greatly 
admired. 



I 







CHAPTER VII. 

Webster fond of fishing. — Lovewell's Pond. — The great Fight. — 
Importance of Relaxation. — Mr. Webster's Course. — Relin- 
quishes his School. — Providential Circumstance. — Mr. Web- 
ster's Progress in Law. — His Attention to Business. — The 
wrong Course. — Kimball's Turnpike. — Webster's Determina- 
tion His Success. — Rule to regulate Subscriptions. — Mr. 

Webster studies with Hon. Mr. Gore. — Is admitted to the 
Bar. — Mr. Gore's Commendation and Prophecy. 

It is evident from the facts which we have nar- 
rated in the preceding pages, that whilst Mr. Web- 
ster was at Fryeburg, he must have been " dihgent 
in business ; " yet he did not deny himself relaxation. 
Rural sports were as attractive to him then as at 
any future period. He was particularly fond of 
anolinff, and as there was a delio:htful sheet of water 
not far from tlte village, he availed himself of the 
opportunity of Waltonizing whenever the mood was 
upon him. This beautiful gem of a lake was once 
the scene of a dreadful tragedy, from which it de- 
rives its name of Lovewell's Pond, and by which, 
also, its shores have been consecrated as classic 
ground. 

Tlus tragedy was as follows : In 1725, such fre- 
quent barbarous murders were committed by the In- 
dians upon the inhabitants of the exposed frontier, 

101 



102 BATTLE WITH THE INDIANS. 

tliat the General Court of 3Ias.sachusetts offered a 
reward of one liundred pounds for every Indian's 
scalp. This furnished a stronj^ temptation for the 
brave and the covetous amons: the whites to engage 
in a murderous crusade aj^ainst the lawless aborijji- 
nes. An Indian chief by the name of Paugus, 
whose tribe were called the Pcqirahrts, resided on 
territory which is now embraced within the limits of 
Fryeburf]r. This chief was terrible to tlie En^hsh, 
and they were determined, if possible, to extirpate 
liim and his tribe. Captain Love well of Dunstable 
undertook this hazardous service, with thirty four 
men. He came upon Paugus with eighty warriors, 
and the battle commenced by the whites' killing one 
of the Indians, who was returninji; from hunting. 
Both parties fought with great fury. " The In- 
dians roaring, and yelUng, and howling like wolves, 
barking like dogs, and making all sorts of hideous 
noises ; the English frequently shouting ajid huz- 
zaing, as they did after the first round. At one 
time Captain Wyman is confident they were got 
to powwowing by their striking on the ground, and 
other odd motions; but at length Wyman crept 
up towards them, and firing amongst them, shot 
the chief powwow, and broke up their meeting.*" 

It was a most desperate engagement. Sixty of 
the Indians and twenty English were slain,t amongst 

* Rpv. Mr. Symmes. ' f Drake's Indians. 



THE BELOVED SONG. 103 

whom were both Love well and Paugus. The Eng- 
lish, however, were conquerors. 

Two poems were written, conr./nemorative of the 
fight, in which all the prominent circumstances were 
narrated. As many of our readers will be more in- 
terested in these poetic descriptions than a mere 
statement in prose, we insert one below,* of which 

* LOVE WELL'S FIGHT. 

Of worthy Captain Lovewell I purpose now to sing", 
How valiantly he served his country and his king' ; 
He and his valiant soldiers did range the woods full wide, 
And hardships they endured to quell the Indian's pride. 

Twas nigh unto Pig-wacket, on the eighth day of May, 
They spied a rebel Indian, soon after break of day ; 
He on a bank was walking, upon a neck of land. 
Which leads into a pond, as we're made to understand. 

Our men resolved to have him, and travelled two miles round. 

Until ihey met the Indian, who boldly stood his ground. 

Then speaks up Captain Lovewell, ^'Take you good heed,' 

says he ; 
^' This rogue is to decoj' us, I ver}- plainly see. 

^' The Indians lie in ambush, in some place nigh at hand. 
In order to surround us, upon this neck of land; 
Therefore we'll march iu order, and each man leave his pa<'k, 
That we may briskly fight ti»em when they shall us attack.' 

They came unto this Indian, who did them thus defy ; 
As soon as they came nigh him, two guns he did let fly, 
Which wounded Captain Lovewell, and likewise one man more, 
But when this rogue was running, they laid him in his gore. 



J 04 THE BELOVED SONG. 

Mr. S. G. Drake, of Indiau notoriety, says, accord- 
ing to tradition, it was composed the same year of 

Then having scalped the Imlian, the\' went bark to the spot, 
Where they had laid their packs down, hwi there they found 

them not ; 
For the Indians having- spied them, wnen ihey them down did lay, 
!)id seize them for their plunder, and carry them away. 

These rebels lay in ambush, this very place hard by. 

So that an English soldier did one of them espy. 

And cried out, " There's an Indian ! " with that they started oot. 

As licrcely as old lions, and hideously did shout. 

Wilh that our valiant English all gave a loud hurrah, 
To show the rebel Indians they feared them not a straw 3 
So now the fight began, as fiercely as could be ; 
The Indians ran up to them, but soou were forced to flee. 

Then spake up Captain Lovewell, when first tlie fight began, 
" Fight on my valiant heroes ! you see they fall like rain/' 
For. as we are informed, the Indians were so thick, 
A man could scarcely fire a gun, and not some of them bit. 

Then did the rebels try their best our soldiers to surround, 

But they could not accomplish il, because there was a pond. 

To which our men retreated, and covered all the rear; 

The rogues were forced to flee them, allboogh they skulked for fear. 

Two logs there were behind them, that close together lay ; 
Without being discovered they could not get away ; 
Therefore our valiant English, they travelled in a row. 
And at a handsome distance, as they were wont to go. 

'Twas ten o'clock in the morning when first the fight began. 
And fiercely did continue till the setting of the sun. 



THE BELOVED SONG. 105 

the fight, " and for several years afterward was the 
most beloved song in all New England." 

Excepting that the Indians, some h<iurs before 'twas night, 
Drew oflf into the bushes, and ceased a while to fight ; — 

But soon again returned in fierce and furious mood, 
Shouting as in the morning, but yet not half so loud j 
For, as we are informed, so thick and fast they fell, 
Scarce twenty of their number at night did get home well. 

And that our valiant English till midnight there did stay. 
To see whether the rebels would have another fray ; 
But they no more returning, they made oft" towards their home, 
And brought away their wounded, as far as they could come. 

Of all our valiant English, there were but thirty-four. 

And of the rebel Indians, there were about fourscore ; 

And sixteen of our English did safely home return ; 

The rest were killed and wounded, for which we all must mourn 

Our worthy Captain Lovewell among them there did die 5 
They killed Lieutenant Robbins, and wounded good young 

Frye, 
Who was our English chaplain ; he many Indians slew, 
And some of them he scalped, when bullets round him flew. 

Young Fullam, too, I'll mention, because he fought so well ; 
Endeavoring to save a man, a sacrifice he fell ; 
And yet our valiant Englishmen in fight were ne'er dismayed, 
But still they kept their motion, and Wyman captain made, — 

Who shot the old chief Paugus, which did the foe defeat, 
Then set his men in order, and brought off the retreat ; 
And braving many dangers and hardships in the way, 
They safe arrived al. Dunstable, the thirteenth day of May. 



106 IMPORTANCE OF RELAXATION. 

On ihis pond, the scene of such dreadful carnage, 
Mr. Webster was accustomed to sail, and from its 
clear, cool waters, to draw such unfortunate fish as 
were too free in their liberties with his bait. 

Nature requires relaxation after effort, whether 
that effort be of a mental or physical character. 
This principle Mr. Webster always recognized. 
There can be no doubt that an individual who is ac- 
customed to literary pursuits will accomplish more 
by a judicious alternation of hard study with pleas- 
ant recreation than though the latter be entirely neg- 
lected. Tlie mind will not endure a constant 
draught upon its powers. It needs rest for the re- 
covery of its elasticity and vigor ; there should be a 
shutting up of books, a relinquishment of problems, 
a cessation of mental effort, a throwing open of the 
door, and an escape of the mind, into unfettered 
freedom, in order to secure that perfect repose which, 
after great effort, nature needs. This was Mr. 
Webster's course ; hence his frequent fishing, gun- 
ning, and other rural excursions. 

In September, 1802, he relinquished his school, 
and returned home, having made some acquisitions, 
both of a pecuniary and intellectual character. 

Mr. Webster had now passed that important crisis 
in a young man's life, which, in most cases, gives 
character to his whole history, nat ely, the choice of 
a profession. He had decided in favor of the law. 



INFLUENCE OF CIRCUMSTANCES. ' 107 

It may not have been impossible that the proximity 
of Mr. Thompson's office to Webster's residence 
contributed much towards this decision. It was so 
easy for him to sHp in there, look over the law 
books, hear conversation upon legal questions, and 
thus have his taste for such pursuits awakened, that 
that office, in all probability, assisted in turning his 
mind in this direction. It was, therefore, a provi- 
dential circumstance that these influences existed, 
and rendered it so easy for him to enter upon the 
study of this science. Under another combination 
of circumstances, he might as easily have been in- 
duced to enter upon some other pursuit, and then 
the world would have lost the benefit of his great 
talents as a statesman. 

After leaving Fryeburg, arrangements were made 
for Mr. Webster to resume the study of law in the 
office of Mr. Thompson. This gentleman, though 
well acquainted with his profession, adopted a mode 
of instruction with his students which was not popu- 
lar with them at the time, and which they did not 
approve in subsequent life. He was accustomed 
to give them the most difficult books first. On thi> 
principle he put into Mr. Webster's hand Coke upon 
Littleton. It was a hard work for a student to mas- 
ter ; but Mr. Webster, nothing daunted by its diffi- 
culties, pored over it six hours daily. Although at 
first it was like entering a primeval forest, where the 



108 WEBSTER S PROFICIENCY. 

traveller has to cut his own way, he believed that, by- 
patient and persevering industry, he would in time 
see light on the other side ; that by mastering each 
difficulty as it occurred, as the woodman fells trees 
singly, he w^ould, before long, successfully cut his 
way through them all. Still he always regarded 
that method of introducing a boy to the study of the 
science as a mistake. He has expressed himself 
clearly upon this subject in the following language : — 

" A boy of twenty, with no previous knowledge 
of such subjects, cannot understand Coke. It is folly 
to set him upon such an author. There are propo- 
sitions in Coke so abstract, and distinctions so nice, 
and doctrines embracing so many distinctions and 
qualifications, that it requires an effort not only of a 
mature mind, but of a mind both strong and mature, 
to understand him. Why disgust and discourage a 
young man by telling him that he must break into 
his profession through such a wall as this." 

He soon got upon other books, which he studied 
with greater pleasure. Besides the attention which 
at that period he paid to law, he also found time to 
read Hume's History of England, Shakspeare's 
plays, and the Latin classics. Such was the pro- 
ficiency which he made in his profession, that, during 
the second year of his studies, he was quite a sound 
lawyer. General Lyman says, " When clients came 
for advice, he [Mr. Webster] heard, with Mr. Thomp- 



HE MINDS HIS BUSINESS. 109 

son, a full statement of the facts, and thereupon he, 
again and again, wrote out opinions, which Mr. 
Thompson, on perusal, adopted, signed, and deliv- 
ered as his own. He also displayed great tact in 
conducting the lawsuits pending, in marshalling the 
testimony, and in eliciting from witnesses the facts 
to be proved on the trials. Many men, not profound 
lawyers, have become eminent in their profession, 
and have paved their way to wealth, by their skill in 
conducting a cause before it was brought to trial." 
It is evident that, as when in college, so when study- 
in"- law, Mr. Webster minded his business. This was 
one ffreat secret of his success. Let American 
youth remember this. At this period, Mr. Webster 
was not a one-idea man ; he did not devote himself 
exclusively to the law. He read history and poetry, 
and went on excursions of pleasure; but with all 
these other employments, he still minded Ms business; 
he kept his recreations within due limits. The great 
difficulty with not a few young men is, that, in order 
to find time for amusement, they neglect important 
duties ; they have not acquired that discipline, or 
formed such habits, that they can, with authority, say 
to the attractive pleasures of life, " Thus far shall 
ye come, but no farther." Being governed more by 
their own passions than by established principle, it 
becomes extremely easy for them to throw aside 
their books, or abandon their employment, whenever 



110 THE TURNPIKE CASE. 

an opportunity occurs for the enjoyment of some 
agreeable amusement. Such may reach mediocrity, 
but there is little probabiUty of their attaining to a 
high degree of excellence, in any profession. 

An incident is related which shows that, whilst 
Mr. Webster was a student of law, he developed the 
same promptness, decision, and energy, which were 
such conspicuous traits of character, after he had 
entered upon public life. • 

A Capt.iin Kimball had entered into contract to 
open a turn{)ike. This contract was based upon 
subscriptions for the object by gentlemen of wealth, 
a number of 'whom were residents of Portsmouth. 
After the work had been in progress for some time, 
these gentlemen were called upon to pay their sub- 
scriptions : they refused. This at once created em- 

• 
barrassment. It was known from the first that 

money would be greatly needed, and their subscrip- 
tions had been looked to as the source whence it was 
to be obtained. When, therefore, they declined ful- 
filling their own obhgations, perplexing disappoint- 
ment was the result. Captain Kimball regarded 
himself as greatly wronged, and applied to Mr. 
Thompson for legal advice. Mr. Thompson imme- 
diately addressed the delinquent subscribers letters, 
earnestly urging them to pay their subscriptions. 
The letters were unheeded. He then sent to them 
his oldest student, Mr. Noyes, to remonstrate per- 



Webster's decision. lU 

sonally with them, but with no better success 
When the failure of Mr. Noyes's visit was made 
known to Mr. Webster, he said, " Let me go to 
Portsmoutli ; I will bring you the moneys Mr. 
Thompson conckided to grant liis request. Having 
obtained the necessary authority, he set out ; he 
drove his horse with sucli speed that when he reached 
Portsmouth it was covered with foam. Without 
loss of time he called on •some of the subscribers, 
and sent word to others, that he had come to receive 
their subscriptions, and the money must be paid. 
He then despatched a messenger to the sheriff of the 
county, asking his presence immediately. He next 
sat down to a table, and very coolly commenced 
making out writs for the apprehension of every sub- 
scriber. When the dehnquents understood the bear- 
ing of these preparatory measures, they became 
alarmed. They saw they had a hard customer to 
deal with, and proposed that they have a conversa- 
tion upon the subject; it was granted. When the 
company assembled, Mr. Webster again stated to 
them the object of his visit, and the grounds on 
which he made his demands, and then, in a manner 
in which dignity, courtesy, and authority were 
blended together, he coolly informed them that he 
would wait until a certain hour (which he specified) 
for the money, and that if by that time it was not 
paid, he would put the writs into the hands of the 



112 DELINQUENT SUBSCKIBERS. 

sheriff, and have them all imincdiatcly arrested. This 
produced tlie desired effect. At that time imprison- 
ment for debt had not been abohshed in New Hamp- 
shire. The dehnquents, tlierefore, knew what they 
had to expect if tliey persisted in their refusal. The 
appointed hour arrived ; Mr. Webster's horse was 
ready for him to mount ; the sheriff was on hand to 
receive and execute tlie writs ; all things were ready 
for the apprehension of t4ie guilty. They now saw 
that the subject could neither be trifled with nor 
postponed ; the crisis was reached ; the money was 
paid over to Mr. Webster as fast as he could count 
and receipt for it. Having by his energy and tact ac- 
complished his object, he returned home and reported 
his success, to the astonishment and great gratifica- 
tion of those immediately concerned. 

W^hen any enterprise which will involve a con- 
siderable outlay of money is projected, it is a com- 
mon practice to receive subscriptions for that object, 
and then commence the work before those subscriptions 
are paid. It follows, as a necessary consequence, that 
if any of those subscriptions are withdrawn, those per- 
sons who are practically engaged in the enterprise will 
be subjected to embarrassments to the full extent of 
the amount thus withdrawn, and will either have to 
raise the funds from some other source, or else cre- 
ate a debt ; when, if they could have foreseen this 
result, they would have done nothing towards the 



SUBSCRIPTIONS SHOULD BE PAID. 113 

execution of the project until the funds subscribed 
had been paid in. This is unjust: when a person 
subscribes towards a railroad, a canal, a church, or 
any benevolent cause, he is in honor and in justice 
bound to pay that subscription. He should regard 
it as sacred as a promissory note ; it has all the ele- 
ments of such note ; it is a promise to pay a certain 
specified sum for a certain specified object, and a 
man has no more right to refuse payment than he 
has to refuse the payment of any other pecuniary 
obligation. This obligation is, if possible, strength- 
ened, when, hy virtue of Ms promise, the object for 
whicli he subscribed is commenced, and debts con- 
tracted. He encouraged the enterprise, and he is 
justly held respoflsible to the full extent of that en- 
courao-ement. 

These remarks are made because it is sometimes 
the case, that individuals who have subscribed 
towards an object afterwards change tlieir minds, 
and refuse payment. Such instances have occurred 
in benevolent and religious objects. As there is no 
danger that the law will be resorted to in order to 
enforce payment of such subscriptions, they can be 
repudiated with impunity. But let it be remem- 
bered that such conduct is disreputable, and by 
every man of honor is condemned. 

To every young person, whose eye may fall upon 
this page, would we say, Never subscribe towards an 
8 



114 MR. WEBSTER REMOVES TO BOSTON. 

object unless you are convinced of its importance ; 
but ichcn your promise is once given , sacicdly re- 
deem it. 

After remaining in Mr. Thompson's office two 
years, Mr. Webster desired a change, where he 
could acquire a knowledge of other departments of 
law besides those which were pursued in the office 
of Mr. T. For this purpose he removed, in July, 
1804, to Boston, and placed himself under the in- 
struction of that distinguished counsellor, Hon. 
Christopher Gore. His opportunities for acquiring 
broader views of his profession were here enjoyed. 
He had access to an extensive and valuable library, 
and the privilege of attending the sessions of the 
Supreme and Circuit Courts, where questions of the 
gravest importance were discussed by the most 
learned and eminent lawyers. He was not idle 
wliile attending these sessions ; but, v/ith pen in 
hand, he carefully watched the opinions of the 
learned judges, and made them matters of record. 
He continued in Mr. Gore's office nearly a year, 
where he studied with diligence the principles of the 
common and municipal law, the laws of nations, 
and the science of special pleading. In addition 
to his laborious professional studies, he managed to 
secure time for a wide range of general reading. 

Being now regarded as qualified for admittance 
to the bar, his teacher, Hon. Mr. Gore, introduced 



ADMITTED TO THE BAR. 115 

him to court, and made a motion that he be admit- 
ted to practice. It is greatly to the credit of Mr. 
Webster that he had produced such a favorable im- 
pression upon his teacher, that when he made this 
motion for the admission of his young student to 
the bar, he accompanied it with some highly com- 
mendatory remarks. Mr. Everett says, " He dvv^elt 
with emphasis on the remarkable attainments and 
uncommon promise of his pupil, and closed with a 
prediction of his future eminence." 

It is sometimes the case, that the general estima- 
tion in which an individual is held is far higher than 
that which he enjoys amongst his more intimate as- 
sociates. In respect to such, 

" 'Tis distance lends enchantment to the view ; " 

and this enchantment is dispelled in proportion as 
the distance diminishes. With Mr. Webster it was 
otherwise. Those who knew him best cherished for 
him the highest esteem. Admiration for his talents 
and acquirements increased in proportion to one's 
familiar acquaintance with him. 

By his admission to the bar he was fairly launched 
upon the world. Where the winds and waves of 
fickle fortune would carry him, — what shoals and 
quicksands he would escape, or against what rocks 
he would dash, — how little did he know ! He 
doubtless cherished certain aspirations, and probably 



IIG HIS ASPIRATIONS. 

bad a course of life marked out in liis owu mind, 
wliici) he expected to pursue. It would be interest- 
ing, if we could learn uliat these ex})ectations were, 
to see in what respects tiiey were met, and wherein 
be was disappointed by the events of bis subse- 
quent life. 



ir 



CHAPTEPv VIII.- 

Has a Clerkship offered him. — Declines it. — His Father dis- 
pleased. — Pays his Father's Debts, — His filial Attachment. — 
Some treat their Parents unkindly. — Mr. Webster's first 
Plea. — He astonishes every body. — Controlling' Witnesses. — 
The Detection. — The Character of his Arguments. — Webster 
and Mason. — " Import a young Earthquake." 

Mr. Webster's stamina of character was severely 
tested by an incident vvliich occurred about the time 
that he was admitted to the bar. His father at that 
period was one of the judges of the County Court 
in New Hampshire, and 4;hough not a man of liberal 
education, he was highly respected for his strong 
common sense, his sterling integrity, and his quick 
perception of the particular points at issue in the 
various cases of litigation that came before him. 

The clerkship of that court, which was then va- 
cant, was tendered to his son. In some respects it 
was a desirable position. Mr. March, in his spirited 
account of the affair, says, — 

" The office was worth fifteen hundred dollars per 
annum, which was in those days, and in that neigh- 
borhood, a competency — or rather absolute wealth. 
Mr. Webster himself considered it a great prize, 
and was eager to accept it. He weighed the ques- 

1J7 



118 FILIAL DUTY AND PERSONAL AMBITION. 

tion in his mind. On the one side he saw immediate 
comfort ; on the otiicr, at the best, a doubtful strug- 
gle. By its acceptance he made sure his own good 
condition, and, what was nearer to his heart, that of 
his family. By its refusal he condemned both him- 
self and them to an uncertain and probably harass- 
ing future. Whatever aspirations he might have 
cherished of professional distinction, he was willing 
cheerfully to relinquish, to promote the immediate 
welfare of those he held most dear. 

" But Mr. Gore peremptorily and vehemently 
interposed his dissent. He urged every argument 
against the purpose. He exposed its absurdity and 
its inconsequence. He appealed to the ambition of 
his pupil — once a clerk,- l^e said, he always would 
be a clerk — there would be no step upwards. He 
attacked him, too, on the side of his family affec- 
tion, telling him that he would be far more able 
to gratify his friends from his professional labors 
than in the clerkship. 'Go on,' he said, 'and finish 
your studies ; you are poor enough, but there are 
greater evils than poverty ; live on no man's favor ; 
what bread you do eat, let it be the bread of inde- 
pendence. Pursue your profession ; make yourself 
useful to your friends, and a little formidable to your 
enemic3s, and you have nothing to fear.' 

"I^'lverted from his design by arguments like 
these, it still remained to Mr. Webster to acquaint 




HE DECLINES OFFICE. 119 

his father with his determination, and satisfy him of 
its propriety. He felt this would be no easy taskj 
as his father had set his heart so much upon the 
office ; but he determined to go home immediately, 
and give him in full the reasons of his conduct. 

" It was midwinter, and he looked round for a 
country sleigh, — for stage coaches at that time were 
things unknown in the centre of New Hampshire, — 
and finding one that had come down to market, he 
took passage therein, and in two or three days was 
set down at his fjither's door. (The same journey 
is made now in four hours by steam.) It was eveii- 
mg when he arrived. I have heard him tell the 
story of the interview. His father was sitting before 
the fire, and received him with manifest joy. He # 
looked feebler than he had ever appeared, but his 
countenance lighted up on seeing his clcrh stand be- 
fore him in good health and spirits. He lost no 
time in alluding to the great appointment — said 
how spontaneously it had been made — how kindly 
the chief justice proposed it — with what unanimity 
all assented, &c. During this speech it can be well 
imagined how embarrassed Mr. Webster felt, com- 
pelled, as he thought, from a conviction of duty, to 
disappoint his father's sanguine expectations. Nev- 
ertheless he commanded his countenance and voice, 
so as to reply in a sufficiently assured manner. He 
spoke gayly about the office ; expressed his great 



120 HIS mother's prediction^. 

obligation to their lionors, and liis intention to write 
them a most respectful letter — if he could have 
consented to record any body's judgments, he should 
have been proud to have recorded their honors', &.c. 
He proceeded in this strain till his father exhibited 
signs of amazement, it having occurred to him, 
finally, that his son might .all the while be serious. 
* Do you intend to decline .this office 1 ' he said at 
length. ' Most certainly,' replied his son ; ' I can- 
not think of doing otherwise. I mean to use my 
tongue in the courts, not my pen ' — to be an actor, 
not a register of other men's actions.' 

*' For a moment .Judge Webster seemed angry. 
He rocked his chair slightly, a flash went over his 
eye, softened by age, but even then black as jet ; 
but it immediately disappeared, and his countenance 
regained its usual serenity. Parental love and par- 
tiality could not, after all, but have been gratified 
with the son's devotion to an honorable and distin- 
guished profession, and seeming confidence of suc- 
cess in it. ' Well, my son,' said Judge Webster, 
finally, ' your mother has always said that you would 
come to something or nothing — she was not sure 
which. I think you are now about settling that 
doubt for her.' The judge never afterwards spoke 
to his son on the subject." 

The account of this interesting event, as given 
by General Lyman, in his " Memorials," contains 



A BENEFACTOR. 121 

some additional facts, which ought not to be omitted 
here. We give them in his own language : — 

" The difficulty of satisfying his father that the 
course he had resolved to pursue was the best, now 
arose in his mind. To aid Mr. Webster and his 
brother Ezekiel in obtaining an education, their 
father had resorted to borrowing money, and there 
was a mortgage for it ta be paid. A debt was a sore 
encumbrance, more so in those days than at the pres- 
ent time. Ezekiel Webster was doing his best, and 
was then in Boston, teaching a select school,^ earn 
money towards discliarging that mortgage. Edward 
Everett, since so highly distinguished, was, by the 
by, one of his pupils. The desire to relieve his 
excellent father from all pecuniary responsibility on 
his account, now that he had the power to do it, was 
of course very great ; bht the sacrifice of his future 
prospects was in the scale weighing against the clerk- 
ship and its emoluments. In this dilemma, his friend, 
Mr. Rufus Green Emery, — be it mentioned to the 
credit of his fame, — on hearing what the difficulty 
was, put gold into Mr. Webster's pocket, and sent 
him home to see his father personally on the subject. 
I have heard Mr. Webster tell the story, and it is a 
pity that I should mar it. On arriving at home, he 
found his father sitting in his easy chair, not know- 
ing one word of what had passed in Boston, or of his 
intentions as to the clerkship. He received his sou 



122 PAYS HIS father's debts. 

affectionately, and with a maimer that seemed to say, 
* Our anxieties are now ended.' His father lost no 
time in telling him how ' readily and how handsomely 
his request had been complied with. I had not,' 
said he to his son, ' more than mentioned it before 
it was done.' 'His eyes,' said Mr. Webster, ' were 
brimful of the tears of gratitude, as he told it to 
me.' ^ 

"'Judge,' said he, ' of my father's disappoint- 
ment and manifest vexation, when I told him I must 
resigtPthe office. He could not at first believe his 
own ears. He of course wanted to know the reason. 
1 told him I could do better ! I laid down the gold 
to pay the mortgage, and all the debts on my own 
and my brother's account. I wrote a letter thanking 
the judges for the honor they had done me, and 
most respectfully resigned* the office ^o which they 
had appointed me. Thereupon I hastened back to 
Boston, where the court was sitting at which 1 was 
licensed to practise. I then for the first time held 
up my hand and took the oaths of office.' " 

Mr. Gore, for the advice which he then gave, and 
Mr. Emery, for his removal of pecuniary embarrass- 
ment, merit the thanks of the whole country. That 
advice and assistance essentially aided in making 
Mr. Webster the great American statesman that he | 

was. If he had accepted a clerkship in court, he 
might have died an incumbent of the office. He 



1 



\ 



SETTLES IN BOSCAWEN. 123 

would no doubt have been punctual, faithful, and 
industrious. He would have been a model clerk, 
but he probably would never have moved senates, 
nor negotiated treaties. Here again" we may see 
the intervention of divine Providence. Why did 
he happen to be a' student of Mr. Gore ? Why did 
that appointment of clerk reach him before he. had 
left his studies and returned home ? Why did Mr. 
Gore cherish the views and give the advice he did 1 
Why, too, did Mr. Emery step forward and remove 
the strongest temptation to acceptance out of the 
way ? Why this combination of circumstances, ex- 
cept that a kind Providence interfered 1 Had Mr. 
Gore's advice been the opposite of what it was, or 
had Mr. Emery been indifterent to the subject, vi'ho 
can tell what would have been the results ? 

After his admission to the bar, Mr. Webster went 
to Amhei'st, in New Hampshire, where his father 
was holding court, and accompanied hini home. It 
had been his intention to open an office in Ports- 
mouth. That being a large town, and possessing 
some foreign commerce, it presented a promising 
field for practice. But filial duty prevented. The 
infirmities of age were now creeping upon his father. 
His brother Ezekiel was absent, and, it being desi- 
rable that one of the sons should be near the home- 
stead, Mr. Webster relinquished th^idea of settling 
down at Portsmouth, and opened an office in Bos- 



124 HIS FILIAL ATTACHMENT. 

cawen, near the residence of his father, and com- 
menced practice as a country lawyer. This was 
not an encouraging field, but the reason of its selec- 
tion developed a beautiful trait in Mr. Webster's 
character. Ilis attachment to his parents was strong 
and tender. Althougii he was now of age, and had 
a right to go where he cliose to seek his fortune, 
yet his filial affection promjited him to forego tliat 
riffht, and to settle down near the homestead, that 
he might cheer the hearts of his parents in their de- 
cline of life, and be at hand to render any service 
which they might need. No one denies that young 
children ought to love and reverence their parents ; 
but, alas ! examples are too numerous of those who 
seem to act as if, when they reached their majority, 
they outgrew filial obligation — as if from that pe- 
riod their language to their parents was, " It is a 
gift by whatsoever thou mightest be profited of 
me " — it is a gratuity, a favor, and not the dis 
charge of an obhgation. Their pnrents are neg- 
lected, their feelings set at nought, tlieir wishes dis- 
regarded. They are considered and treated as an 
encumbrance ; their death approaches too slowly ; 
and when it occurs, tlieir affectionate children are 
relieved of a great burden. With Mr. Webster an 
opposite class of feelings predominated. Affection- 
ate attachment to his parents was a prominent trait 
of his character. For their comfort he sacrificed, 



HIS APPEARANCE IN COURT. 125 

for the time being, whatever emoluments he might 
have received in a larger but more distant field of 
professional labor. He has said in a letter, " My 
opening an office in Boscavven was that I might be 
near him," i. e., his father. The sign which he then 
hung out, with " D. Webster, Attorney," upon it, 
is said to be still in existence. By some of his ad- 
mirers it would be highly prized, and treasured as a 
sacred memento of him whose name it bears. 

Down to the time that Mr. Webster commenced 
the practice of law, he was a thin and sickly-looking 
young man. His appearance in this respect was 
very different from what it was in the later periods 
of his life. It was not at all adapted to prepossess 
his hearers in his favor, if we except his eloquent 
eye and expressive countenance. His pliysical con- 
stitution was by no means the appropriate represen- 
tation of his mental character. Under his outward 
weakness was concealed great intellectual strength, 
of which the following incident furnishes a striking 
illustration. The first case which he ever plead 
before a jury was of a civil character. It was one 
of considerable interest to the parties concerned, 
and created no small amount of public excitement. 
Colonel William Webster, a remote relative of Dan- 
iel, was the sheriff of the county. After the trial 
was over, the sheriff stated to a friend, that he 
thought, " when Mr. Webster rose, that he would 



126 HIS FIRST PLEA. 

not stand up long ; I was ashamed to see so lean 
and feeble a young man come into court bearing the 
name of Webster ; but he astonished every body with 
his eloquence, learning, and powers of reasoning." 

lie exhibited such a familiar acquaintance with 
the j)rinciples of law, such skill in marshalling his 
facts, such ingenuity in statinji" them in the most fa- 
forable manner for his client, ajid such power of 
analysis and argument, that from this time he was 
never in want of business. Notwithstanding his thin 
and meagre appearance, he produced a decidedly 
favorable eftect upon those who heard him ; his 
strength was mental, not physical. Under a feeble 
exterior he concealed the elements of an intellectual 
giant. This first plea of Mr. Webster was heard 
by his father, and it was the only one to wliich he 
had the pledsure to listen. The old gentleman, who, 
as we have said, was then one of the judges of 
New Hampshire, died soon after, but not before he 
had heard predictions of his son's professional suc- 
cess, and had seen sufficient evidence of his genius 
to justify their probability. 

It was an interesting moment to them both, when 
the son, after having spent years in his collegiate 
and legal studies, was, by tliis first professional essay, 
to show his father the " first fruits " of his long and 
laborious training. It was doubtless to Mr. Webster 
a pleasant recollection all liis subsequent life, that his 



THE TAVERN BILL. 127 

father was favored witli the ojDportunitj of hearing 
liim at least once before he died ; and the father 
must have accounted it no common privilege that he 
was permitted to witness this earlj effort of a beloved, 
son in the new and difficult sphere which he had 
chosen. 

This first argument of Mr. Webster before a jury 
is said to have been founded upon a tavern bill 
amounting only to about twenty-four dollars. It was 
an encouraging circumstance that the verdict ren- 
dered was in favor of his client, the jury awarding 
him seventeen dollars. 

Another case which he conducted at the same 
term of court he lost, the jury returning a verdict 
for an amount somewhat larger than the above 
against his client. This was in 1805 ; the next year 
he exhibited in a greater degree his abilities as a 
counsellor and a pleader. At that time an argu- 
ment which he delivered made such an impression 
upon a lad of some ten or twelve years of age, that 
though nearly fifty years have passed away, he re- 
members the effect which it produced upon those who 
heard it, and the strong commendation which it re- 
ceived from them. " I recollect," he writes, " with 
perfect distinctness, the sensation which the speech 
produced upon the multitude.* There was a great 
throng there, and they were loud in his praise. As 

* B. F. French, Esq. 



128 KNACK OF TALKING. 

soon as tlie adjournment took place, the lawyers 
dropped into my father's office, and thete the whole 
hearing of the young man underwent a discussion. 
It was agreed on all hands that he had made an ex- 
traordinary effort, when , by way of ac- 
counting for it, said, ' Ah, Webster has been study- 
ing in Boston, and has got a knack of talk- 
ing ; but let him take it rough and tumble a while 
here in tlie bush, and we shall see whether he will 
do so much better than other folks.' " 

After he had fairly entered into practice, Mr. Web- 
ster rose rapiclly in his profession. 

" It is stated in tlie Life of Chief Justice Smith,, 
that in 1806, before Mr. Webster had been admitted 
as a counsellor in the Superior Court, — and of 
course before he was entitled to address the jury, — 
being engaged as attorney in a cause of no great pe- 
cuniary importance, but of some interest and some 
intricacy, he was ' allowed to examine the witnesses, 
and briefly to state his case, both upon the law and 
the facts. Having done this, he handed his brief to 
Mr. Wilson, the senior counsel, for the full argu- 
ment of the matter. But the chief justice had no- 
ticed him, and on leaving the court house said to a 
member of the bar, that he had never before met such 
a young man as that.'' " * 

It is often the case that clients endeavor to con- 

* Joel Parker, LL. D, 



CONTROLLING WITNESSES. 129 

trol the evidence which their witnesses are to give in 
their case. Sometimes this interference is unduly- 
excessive, and recoils with tremendous force upon 
him who has practised it. Such an instance occurred, 
during the early part of Mr. Webster's career. 
As he occasionally narrated it for the amusement of 
his friends, we will give it in his own words : — 

" Soon after commencing the practice of my pro- 
fession at Portsmouth, I was waited on by an old 
acquaintance of my father's, resident in an adjacent 
county, who wished to engage my professional ser- 
vices. Some years previous, he had rented a farm, 
with the clear understanding that he could purchase 
it, after the expiration of liis lease, for one thousand 
dollars. ^ Finding the said farm productive, he soon 
determined to own it ; and, as he laid aside money 
for the purchase, he was prompted to improve what 
he felt certain he would possess. But his landlord, 
finding the property greatly increased in value, cool- 
ly refused to receive the one thousand dollars, when 
in due time it was presented ; and when his extor- 
tionate demand of double that sum was refused, he 
at once brought an action of ejectment. The man 
had but the one thousand dollars, and an unblem- 
ished reputation ; yet I willingly undertook his case. 

"The opening argument of the plaintiff's attorney 
left me little ground for hope. He stated that he 
could prove that my client hired the farm, but there 
9 



13D THE DETECTION. 

was not a word in the lease about the sale, nor was 
there a word spoken about tlie sale wl>en the lease 
was si<^ned, as he should prove by a witness. In 
short, his was a clear case, and I left the court room 
at dinner time with feeble hopes of success. By 
chance, I sat at table next a niewly-commissioned 
militia t»fFicer, and a brother lawyer began to joke 
him about his lack of martial knowledire. 'Indeed,' 
he jocosely remarked, ' you should write dow.n the 
orders, and get old W. to beat them into your 
sconce, as I saw him this morning", with a paper in 
his hand, teaching something to young M. in the 
court-house entry.' 

" Can it be, I thought, that old W., the plaintiff 
in the case, was instructing young M., who 'was his 
reliable witness ? 

"After dinner the court was reopened, and M. 
was put on the stand. He was examined by the 
plaiiitiif's counsel, and certainly told a clear, plain 
story, repudiating all knowledge of any agreement 
to sell. When he had concluded, the opposite coun- 
sel, with a triumphant glance, turned to me, and 
asked me if I was satisfied. ' Not quite,' I replied. 

" I had noticed a piece of paper protruding from 
M.'s pocket, and hastily approaching him, I seized 
it before he had the least idea of my intention. 
'Now,' I asked, 'tell me if this paper does not de- 
tail the story you have so clearly told, and is it not 



CHARACTER OF HIS PLEAS. 131 

false ? ' The witness hung bis head with shame ; 
and when the paper was found to be what I had 
supposed, and in the very handwriting of old W., he 
lost his case at once. Nay, there was such a storm 
of indignation against him, that he soon removed to 
the west. 

"Years afterwards, visiting New Hampshire, I 
was the guest of my professional brethren at a pub- 
lic dinner ; and towards the close of the festivities, I 
was asked if I would solve a great doubt by answer- 
ing a question. ' Certainly.' ' Well, then, Mr. 
Webster, we have often wondered how you knew 
what was in M.'s pocket.' " 

During his practice of the law, Mr. Webster 
had many cases of great importance committed to 
him ; he very early took a high stand in his profes- 
sion ; he became the acknowledged leader of the 
bar ; he was opposed by the most distinguished law- 
yers of which the country could boast, yet always 
maintained an honorable position among them. He 
was so simple in the statement of his propositions, so 
forcible in his argument, so clear in his illustrations, 
there was such an honest, common-sense straightfor- 
wardness about him, which prompted him to march, 
without any circuitousness, directly to his object, that 
he never failed of producing a deep impression upon 
the mind of a jury ; he addressed them as men ca- 
pable of understanding an argument, as men not to 



132 ANECDOTES. 

be borne away by exciting appeals to their passions, 
but to be moved only by a calm, clear, and logical 
address to their judgment. Such addresses he gave 
them. He reasoned to convince, and was suc- 
cessful. 

To show how highly his legal abilities and powers 
of oratory were estimated by his contemporaries, the 
following anecdotes are given : — 

Mr. Webster practised law in Portsmouth nearly 
nine years, and during that time one of his best 
friends, and also his most prominent competitor, was 
the distinguished Jeremiah Mason. On one occasion 
a gentleman called upon the former for the purpose 
of securing his services m a lawsuit ; but Mr. Web- 
ster was compelled to decline the engagement, but 
recommended his client to Mr. Mason. 

" What do you think of the abihties of Mr. Ma- 
son ? " said the gentleman. 

" I think him second to no man in the country," 
replied Mr. Webster. 

The gentleman called upon Mr. Mason, and hav- 
ing secured his promise of assistance, he thought he 
would gratify his curiosity, and therefore questioned 
liim as to his opinion of Mr. Webster. " He's the 
very devil, in any case whatsoever," replied Mr. 
Mason ; " and if he's against you^ I beg to he ex- 
cused.^^ 

On another occasion, a gentleman of Nantucket 



ANECDOTES. ' 133 

accosted a friend by saying, " I have wished to see 
you for some days, for I am in trouble, and wish 
your friendly advice." " What can it be 1 " replied 
the other. " Why, I have a lawsuit, and Webster is 
opposed to me : what shall T do ? " " My advice 
is," was the answer, " that your only chance of es- 
cape is, to send to Smyrna and impoi't a young earth- 
quake,''^ 

The extravagant character of these replies was 
prompted by the high opinion which was entertained 
of his commanding talents. 



4 



CHAPTER IX. 

A dreadful Deed. — General Alarm.— Attack of two Foot- 
pads Hatch's Disclosure. — Grant's Letters. — Grant ar- 
rested. — The Knapps arrested. — The Confession. — The Plot 
explained. — Palmer imprisoned. — Crowninshield's Signal. — 
Palmer's Fear. — The Trial. — Mr. Webster's Plea. — The 
Wicked insnare themselves. — Extraordinary Things. — Avoid 
bad Company. 

Although it dues not fall in with the object of 
this vohime to give an account of the various cases 
which Mr. Webster conducted through court, yet 
titere was one so pecuhar, so exciting, so full of | 

tragic interest, so illustrative of various conflicting 
moral principles, and which furnished an occasion 
for one of his most impressive pleas, that we are un- 
willins: to omit its recital here. 

In the city of Salem, in the State of Massachu- 
setts, is a house which is pointed out to strangers as 
a place where an act of thrilling atrocity was a few 
years since committed. It is in Essex Street, near 
Newbury Street, with a garden extending in the rear 
towards Brown Street, this latter street being parallel 
with Essex Street.* 

* The facts connected with this murder are derived from Hon. 
Benjamin Merrill's Narrative. 

134 



A HORRID DISCOVERY. 135 

In this house resided a very wealthy, retired mer- 
chant of Salem, eighty-two years of age, wliose 
name was Joseph White, Esq. He had neither wife 
nor children ; his family consisted of himself, his 
housekeeper, Mrs. Beckford, who was also his niece, 
and two servants, a man and woman. 

Early on the morning of the 7th of April, 
1830, his servant man discovered that the back win- 
dow of the east parlor was open, and that a plank 
was resting against it, as if to furnish assistance in 
entering the house. His suspicions being excited 
that robbers had visited them, he immediately went 
to the parlor, but found all the furniture in its proper 
place, and no evidence of any person having been 
there. After informing the maid servant of his dis- 
coveries, he visited Mr. White's chamber. As he 
entered the back door of the old gentleman's cham 
ber, he noticed that the other door, which opened 
into the front entry, was not closed. He now ap- 
proached the bed, and there beheld a sight which 
explained all the previous discoveries. The bed- 
clothes were drenched with blood, and Mr. White 
was dead. The servant was horror stricken ; he and 
the maid servant were the only other persons in the 
house. Mrs. Beckford was on a visit to her daugh- 
ter's at Wenham. The alarm was instantly given. 
A crowd collected ; the coroner and physicians were 
sent for, who, upon examination, found thirteen deep 



136 GREAT EXCITEMENT. 

stabs on the body, made by some .sharp instrument, 
and a heavy bh)\v on tlie left ten) pie ; altliough the 
skin was not broken, yet the^ skull was fractured. 
Gold coin and silver, to a considerable amount, were 
in his chamber, yet none of it was taken. With 
the exception of the bed, the room presented its 
usual a]>pearance. Nothing was missed from the 
house, although it contained much silver plate, which 
might have been stolen, if plunder had been the 
object of the assassin. 

This deliberate, dreadful tragedy, committed, as it 
was, upon a well-known, respectable citizen, in a 
densely-settled part of the town, produced a deep 
and wide-spread excitement. So apparently motive- 
less was the deed, that all felt exposed to similar 
danger. Neglected windows and doors were made 
more secure throujrhout the town. Watch doirs 
were obtained, and firearms were bouirht to increase 
the safety of the people. No one felt secure. Who 
was the criminal, or for what purpose the horrid 
deed had been committed, no one knew. The ex- 
citement was the more intense from the impenetrable 
mystery which enshrouded the whole subject. In 
addition to large rewards being offered by the heirs 
of Mr. White, by the town, and by the governor of 
the state, for the detection of the murderer, tiie citi- 
zens appointed a committee of vigilance, twenty- 
seven in number, who were to employ every means 



ATTEMPTED ROBBERY. 137 

in their power to discover the perpetrator of this 
dreadful crime. 

During the excitement of the commimitj upon 
the subject, it was pubhshed in the newspapers, that 
a daring attempt at highway robbery had been 
made on Joseph J. Knapp, ,Tr., and John Francis 
Knapp, in Wenham, on the evening of the 27th 
of April. They stated before the committee of 
investigation, that when near Wenham Pond, on 
their way to Salem in a chaise, three men ap- 
proached them, one of whom stopped the horse by 
seizing the bridle ; the others then approached, one 
on each side, and attempted to seize a trunk which 
was in the chaise. The Knapps of course resisted. 
Frank made a thrust at one of them with a sword 
cane, and Joseph struck the other in the face with 
the but-end of the whip. This decided resistance 
compelled them to ret-reat. After giving a loud 
whistle, as if it were a signal to their accomplices, 
they fled, being pursued a short distance, but un- 
successfully, by Frank Knapp. Their size, appear- 
ance, and dress were described with considerable 
minuteness. In the account of this occurrence, as 
stated in the Salem papers at the time, it was re- 
marked that the gentlemen thus attacked were " well 
known, and no one questioned their respectability or 
veracity." This event increased the excitement. 
It appeared as if there were a gang of robbers 



138 DISCLOSURES OF HATCH. 

pro\vlin<T about in the community, ready to plunder 
or murder, as opportunity oftercd. For a number 
of weeks not the shghtest incident occurred which 
served to furnish the faintest liope of discovering 
the guilty parties. Finally, the committee of vij^i- 
lance learned that a prisoner of the name of Hatch, 
confined in New Bedford jail, could make dis- 
closures that might be of great service to them. He 
was visited, the nature of his disclosures ascer- 
tained, and they were regarded as so important, that 
when the grand jury met, Hatch was brought in 
chains from New Bedford to give his testimony be- 
fore them. His relation was, that several months 
before the murder was perpetrated, he had fre- 
quently heard Richard Crowninshield, Jr., of Dan- 
vers, say that he intended to destroy the life of Mr. 
White. Crowninshield was a young man of bad 
character ; he is described as " of dark and reserved 
deportment, temperate and wicked, daring and wary, 
subtle and obdurate, of great adroitness, boldness, 
and self-command. He had for several years fre- 
quented the haunts of vice in Salem, and though he 
was often spoken of as a dangerous man, his person 
was known to few, for he never walked the streets 
by daylight. Among his few associates he w^as a 
leader and a despot. 






* Hon. Benjamin Merrill. 



grant's letter. 139 

On the testimony of Hatch, Richard Crownin- 
shield, Jr., was arrested on the 2d of May, and com- 
mitted to prison to await his trial. As the evidence 
of Hatch did not seem sufficient to convict Crown- 
inshield, the committee of vigilance continued their 
efforts to discover more convincing proofs. George, 
the brother of Richard, was also arrested. 

On the 15th of May, Captain Joseph J. Knapp, a 
respectable merchant and shipmaster of Salem, and 
father of the young men who were said to have 
been attacked by robbers in Wenham, received, 
through the mail, the following letter : — 

Charles Grant, Jr., to Joseph J. ICnapp. 

" Belfast, May 12, 1830. 
*' Dear Sir : I have taken the pen at this time to 
address an utter stranger, and, strange as it may 
seem to you, it is for the purpose of requesting the 
loan of three hundred and fifty dollars, for which I 
can give you no security but my word, and in this 
case consider this to be sufficient. My call for 
money at this time is pressing, or 1 would not 
trouble you ; but with that sum, I have the pros- 
pect of turning it to so much advantage, as to be 
able to refund it, with interest, in the course of six 
months. At all events, I think it will be for your 
interest to comply with my request, and that imme- 
diately — that is, not put off any longer than you 



140 grant's letter. 

receive this. Then sit down and enclose me the 
money with as much despatch as possible, for your 
own interest. Tliis, sir, is my advice ; and if you 
do not comply with it, the short period between now 
and November will convince you that you have de- 
nied a request, the grantinjr of which will never in- 
jure you, the refusal of which will ruin you. Are 
you surprised at this assertion 1 Rest assured that I 
make it, reserving to myself the reasons, and a series 
of facts which are founded on such a bottom which 
will bid defiance to property or quality. It is use- 
less for me to enter into a discussion of facts which 
must inevitably harrow up your soul. No, I will 
merely tell you that I am acquainted with your 
brother Franklin, and also the business that he w^as 
transactini^ for you on the 2d of April last; and 
that 1 think that you was very extravagant in giving 
one thousand dollars to the person that would exe- 
cute the business for you. But you know best about 
that. You see that such things will leak out. To 
conclude, sir, I will inform you that there is a gen- 
tleman of my acquaintance in Salem, that will ob- 
serve that you do not leave town before the first of 
June, giving you sufficient time between now and 
then to comply with my request ; and if I do not 
receive a line from you, together with the above 
sum, before the 22d of this month, I shall wait upon 
you with an assistant. I have said enough to con- 



KNAPP'S ADVICE. 141 

vince you of my knowledge, and merely inform you 
that you can, when you answer, be as brief as pos- 
sible. Direct yours to 

" Charles Grant, Jr., of Prospect, • 

" Maine." 

This remarkable epistle was entirely unintelligible 
tt) Captain Knapp. He was acquainted with no 
Claries Grant, Jr. ; neither did he know a single 
pejson in the town of Belfast, Maine. It seemed 
to be a letter to obtain " hush money " from him, 
with reference to some crime he had committed, 
with which the writer was acquainted. As Mr. 
Knapp had been guilty of no misdemeanor, neither 
was he willing to have money extorted from him by 
vague and mysterious threats. As, however, the 
letter appeared to be serious, and not intended as a 
joke, Captain Knapp considted his son, Nathaniel 
Phippen Knapp, a young lawyer, to see if he could 
explain it. To him it was as inexplicable as to his 
father. They then went over to Wenham, and 
showed the letter to Joseph J. Knapp, Jr., and John 
Francis Knapp, two other sons of the captain, who 
were then residing with Mrs. Beckford, to whom we 
have already referred as the niece and housekeeper 
of the murdered Mr. White. J. J. Knapp, Jr., read 
the letter, said it contained a lot of trash, and ad- 
vised them to hand t to the committee of vigilance. 



143 THE SECON") LETTER. 

It will be found in the sequel that this was a very 
important letter, and J. J. Knapp, Jr., ought to have 
known this. It is j)erfectl}' amazing that he should 
have advised their placing it at the disposal of the 
committee. Still this was done, and the committee 
of vigilance obtained possession of the letter. 

The next day the committee of vtgilance received 
the following : — 

" Gentlemen of the Committee of Vigh^ance : 
Hearing that you have taken up four young men, 
on suspicion of being concerned in the murder of 
Mr. White, I think it time to inform you that Ste- 
phen White came to me one night, and told me, if 
I would remove the old gentleman, he would give 
me five thousand dollars. He said he was afraid he 
would alter his will if he lived any longer. I told 
him I would do it, but I was afraid to go into the 
house. He said he would go in with me ; that he 
would try to get into the house in the evening? and 
open the window ; would then go home and go to 
bed, and meet me again about eleven. I found him, 
and we both went into his chamber. I struck him 
on his head with a heavy piece of lead, and then 
stabbed him with a dirk ; he made the finishing 
strokes with another. He promised to send me the 
money next evening, and has not sent it yet, which 
is the reason I mention this. 

" Yours, &c., Grant." 



ARREST OF PALMER. 143 

This was directed to the Hon. Gideon Barstow, 

Salem. At the same time Hon. Stephen White 

received the following, directed to him through the 

post office at Salem : — 

"L^NK, May 12, 1830. 

"Mr. White will send the five thousand dollars, 

or a part of it, before to-mor^>w night, or suffer the 

painful consequences. N. Claxton, 4th." 

The murdered gentleman was uncle to this Mr. 
White, and had bequeathed to him the largest part 
of his property. 

Both of these letters were put into the Salem 
post office on Sunday evening, May I6th. 

After mature deliberation, the committee of vigi- 
lance came to the conclusion that the letter signed 
" Charles Grant, .Tr.," might, if followed up, result 
in important disclosures. They therefore sent a 
judicious messenger to Prospect, in Maine. This 
messenger visited the postmaster there, confidentially 
communicajpd to him his business, and then sent 
for an officer. All things being ready, he deposited 
a letter directed to Charles Grant, Jr., in the post 
office, and then remained there, waiting for Grant 
to call for it. It was not long before a man came 
and asked for Grant's letter, when the officer stepped 
forward and arrested him. Upon examination, it 
appeared that his real name was Palmer, and that 



144 THE PLOT REVEALED. 

he resided in the neijjliboriiin: town of Belfast. AI- 
though he was a young m.an of genteel appearance, 
his character was bad. He had served out a term 
in the state's prison of Maine. When informed of 
the reason of his arrest, and of the suspicious char- 
acter of his letter to Knnpp, he saw that he might 
justly he suspected ot^cing accessory to the mur- 
der, and therefore, to clear himself, he revealed all 
tliat he knew of the aflair. He stated that he had 
been a companion of R. Crowninshield, .Tr., and 
George Crowninshield ; that he had spent a portion 
of the winter witli them in Danvers and Salem, un- 
der the assumed name of Carr — part of this time 
he had been concealed in their father's house in 
Danvers. He further stated that, on the 2d of April, 
he saw, from the windows of the house, Frank 
Knapp, and a young man named Allen, ride up to 
the house ; that George and Frank walked away 
together, and Richard and Allen together. When 
they returned, George told Richard that., Frank 
wished them to kill Mr. White, and^that J. J. 
Knapp, Jr., would pay one thousand dollars for the 
job. He also said that various methods of execut- 
ing the murder were proposed, and that they want- 
ed him to be concerned in it, but that he declined. 
George said that the housekeeper would be absent 
at the time ; that the design of J. J. Knapp, Jr., in 
projecting the murder, was to destroy Mr. White's 



KNAPP'S CONFESSION. 145 

will, because it gave the largest amount of the prop- 
erty to Stephen White ; that the will was first to be 
destroyed by J. J. Knapp, Jr., and this he could do 
by obtaining from the housekeeper the key of an 
iron chest in which it was kept. He also stated, 
that Frank Knapp called again the same day, in a 
chaise, and rode off again with Richard Crownin- 
shield, and that he. Palmer, spent the night, on 
which the murder was committed, at the Halfway 
House, in Lynn. 

The important information communicated by 
Palmer was at once transmitted to the committee 
of vigilance, and resulted in the apprehension of 
Joseph J. Knapp, Jr., and John Francis Knapp, 
both of whom were young shipmasters, and of re- 
spectable connections. On the third day of their 
imprisonment, Joseph J. Knapp, .Tr., made a full 
confession, and acknowledged that he originated the 
plot for the murder. He had married the daughter 
of Mrs. Beckford, the housekeeper, and knew that 
by his will 'Mr. White had bequeathed to Mrs. Beck- 
ford a legacy of fifteen thousand dollars ; but, being 
informed that if Mr. White died without leaving a 
will, Mrs. B.'s portion would be nearly two Iiundred 
thousand dollars, he projected the plan of destroy- 
ing Mr. White's will, and then, before he could dis- 
cover the loss and make another, to put the old 
man himself to death. He revealed his plan to his 
10 



146 THE PREPARATION. 

brother, and Frank agreed to find some one to act 
tlie assassin. After tliis Frank opened the matter to 
Richard Crowninshield, Jr., who said he would 
commit the murder for a thousand dollars. .Toseph 
agreed to pay him that amount, and, as he had ac- 
cess to the house at all hours, it was arranged that 
he should unfasten the back window, so as to give 
Richard easy entrance to the premises. 

He also confessed that, four days before the mur- 
der, he stole the will from the iron chest, took it to 
Wenham in his chaise box, where he had covered it 
with hay, kept it till after the murder, and then 
burned it. After he had abstracted the will, he in- 
formed Crowninshield that all was ready. On the 
evening of the same day he met Crowninshield in 
the centre of Salem Common. Crowninshield had 
with him a bludgeon and a dagger, with which he 
intended to commit the deed. Knapp asked him 
if he intended to do it that night. He replied, he 
thought not ; he did not feel like it. It being as- 
certained that on Sunday, the 4th of April, Mr. 
White had gone to take tea with a relative in Chest- 
nut Street, Crowninshield intended to assassinate 
him with a dirk on his way home, but very fortu- 
nately Mr. White returned home before dark. Be- 
ing disappointed at this time, they next arranged for 
the tragedy on the 6th of April. Knapp was by 
some means to induce Mrs. Beckford to spend the 



t 



I 



THE MURDER. • 147 

night with her daughter at Wenham. This being 
accomplished, Crovvninshield and Frank Knapp met 
about ten o'clock on the appointed evening, in 
Brown Street, in the rear of Mr. White's garden, 
where they could observe the movements in the 
house, and see at what time Mr. White and his two 
servants went to bed. Crovvninshield requested 
Frank Knapp to leave him and go home. Frank 
did so, but shortly after returned to the same spot. 
In the mean time, however, Crovvninshield walked 
down Brown Street, through Newbury Street, into 
Essex Street, on which the house fronts, entered a 
gate, and walked round to the back part of the 
house. He there found a plank, which he placed 
against the house ; he then climbed to a window, 
raised it, entered the house, ascended the stairs, 
noiselessly opened the door of Mr. White's sleep- 
ing chamber, cautiously approached the bedside, 
and saw that the old gentleman was sound asleep. 
He now raised a heavy bludgeon, which he had car- 
ried with him for the purpose, and inflicted a mor- 
tal blow. To be certain of accomplishing his fiend- 
ish design, he gave the body of the old man many 
stabs with a sharp dirk or poniard, and then delib- 
erately felt of his pulse, to see that it had ceased to 
beat ! The dreadful deed being accomplished, he 
retired from the chamber, left the house, hurried 
back into Brown Street, where he met Frank, 



148 THE WAGES OF CRIxME. 

who was there wailing to learn the particulars of the 
deed. Crowninsliicld ran down Howard Street, con- 
cealed the club under the steps of the Orthodox 
Church, and then went home to Danvers. Joseph 
also confessed that the story of the attack upon 
himself and brother, on the 27th of April, in Wen- 
ham, was entirely false — it was originated by them- 
selves. He also confessed that he was the author 
of the two mysterious letters, signed " Grant," and 
, " N. Claxton, 4th." 

Not long after the murder, Crowninshield, in 
company with Frank, went over to Wenham to ob- 
tain the one thousand dollars which were to be the 
wages of his iniquity. He obtained, however, at 
that time, only one hundred five franc pieces. 
Crowninshield gave a particular account of all the 
circumstances connected with his commission of the 
crime, told where he concealed the bludgeon, and 
expressed his sorrow that .Joseph Knapp had not 
obtained the right will — that if he had known 
there was another, he would have gotten it. Joseph 
sent Frank to find the club, and in some way to 
destroy it ; but he was unsuccessful in discovering 
where it was. When Joseph, however, made his 
confession, he gave particular information of its 
place of concealment, and there it was found. It 
was a heavy hickory bludgeon, nearly two feet long, 
with a large, egg-shaped head. This head had been 



-^ 



THE ASSASSIN IN PRISON. 149 

hollowed out, and then filled with lead. Its surface 
was smooth, and the handle well adapted for a firm 
grasp. Crowninshield stated that he turned it in a 
lathe. 

After Crowninshield's arrest and imprisonment, 
he manifested great indifference — a kind of stoical 
composure ; but when he was informed of Knapp's 
arrest, his knees smote together, the sweat stood in 
large drops upon his brow, and he was so far over- 
come that he fell back upon his bunk. 

When Palmer, alias Charles Grant, Jr., was 
brought to Salem jail, Crowninshield saw him as 
he left the carriage and was led by the officers into 
the prison. Palmer happened to be placed in a cell 
directly under the one which was occupied by 
Crowninshield. One day, when several of the mem- 
bers of the committee of vio:ilance were in Palmer's 
cell, conversing with him, their attention was arrest- 
ed by a loud whistle overhead. Presently a voice 
called, " Palmer ! Palmer ! " Soon a slip of paper 
and a piece of pencil were seen dangling in the air 
over their heads, and gradually descending lower 
and lower. When they came within reach, they 
were received by the committee. Upon examining 
the paper, it was found to contain two lines of poe- 
try, in order that, if Palmer was really there, he 
should signify it by writing two more lines, and 
make the verse complete. Palmer shrunk away into 



150 THE SUICIDE AND TRIAL. 

the corner of his cell, and was afterwards trans- 
ferred to another part of the prison. He stood in 
great fear of Crowninshield. 

Upon information received from Palmer, Crown- 
inshield's barn was searched on the T^th of June, 
and a quantity of stolen goods was found concealed 
there. Crowninshield, finding that the evidences of 
his guilt were clustering thickly around him, and 
being determined, as he had frequently said, not to 
suffer a public, ignominious punishment, committed 
suicide by hanging himself with a handkerchief to 
the bars of his cell. 

The trial of the Knapps and of George Crown- 
inshield was commenced in the Supreme Court, at 
Salem, on the 20th of July, a special term of the 
court having been held for that purpose. It con- 
tinued, with a few days' recess, till the SOth of Au- 
gust, .lohn Francis Knapp was indicted as princi- 
pal, the other two as accessories. Selman and Chase, 
who had been arrested and retained in prison, on 
suspicion of being concerned in the murder, were 
discharged. 

John Francis Knapp was tried first. The law 
required that the principal criminal, in a case of 
murder, must first be found guilty before any of the 
accessories could be put upon trial. His counsel 
were Messrs. Franklin Dexter and William H. Gar- 
diner, gentlemen of distinguished reputation in their 
profession. 



THE CONVICTIONS. 151 

When Joseph J. Knapp, Jr., — who, upon the 
promise of favor from the government, had made a 
full confession of the whole plot and of the manner 
of its execution, — was called upon the stand, he 
refused to testify. He would make no acknowledg- 
ments before the court and jury. The government, 
therefore, withdrew its pledge of favor, and he was 
left to the regular course of law, after giving, as he 
had done by his confession, a clew to sufficient 
evidence for the conviction of himself and his 
brother. i 

The trials proceeded. Both the Rnapps were 
convicted. George Crowninshield proved that he 
was somewhere else at the time of the murder, and 
so was cleared. 

Mr. Webster had been requested by the officers 
of government to assist them in conducting the 
case. 

After the evidence was all in, and Mr. Franklin 
Dexter had pleaded in defence of John F. Rnapp, 
Mr. Webster arose, and addressed the jury in be- 
half of the government. In the early part of his 
plea he gave utterance to the following thrilling de- 
scription of the manner in which the deed was com- 
mitted. As we read it, we can almost see the 
assassin engaged in his vi^ork of death. His anal- 
ysis of the operations of conscience is also pow- 
erful. 



152 AN ASTOUNDING CASE. 

" Gentlemen, it is a most extraordinary case ; in 
somft respects it has hardly a pretedent any where, 
certainly none in our New Enj^land iiistory. This 
bloody drama exhibited no suddenly excited, ungov- 
ernable rage. The actors in it were not sur])rised by 
any lion-like temptation springing upon their virtue, 
and overcoming it, before resistance could begin. 
Nor did they do the deed to glut savage vengeance, or 
satiate long-settled and deadly hate. It was a cool, 
calculating, money-making murder. It was all 
' hire and salary, not revenge.' It was the weigh- 
ing of money against life ; the counting out of so 
many pieces of silver against so many ounces of 
blood. 

" An aged man, w ithout an enemy in the world, 
in his own house, in his aCvn bed, is made the victim 
of a butcherly murder, for mere pay. Truly here 
is a new lesson for painters and poets. Whoever 
shall hereafter draw the portrait of murder, if he 
will show it as it has been exhibited, where such 
example was last to have been looked for, — in the 
very bosom of our New England society, — let him 
not give it the grim visage of Moloch, the brow 
knitted by revenge, the face black with settled hate, 
and the blood-shot eye emitting livid fires of malice : 
let him draw, rather, a decorous, smoothfaced, blood- 
less demon ; a picture in repose, rather than in ac- 
tion ; not so much an example of human nature in its 



THRILLING DESCRIPTION. 153 

depravity, and in its paroxysms of crime, as an in- 
fernal being, a fiend, in the ordinary display and de- 
velopment of his character. 

" The deed was executed with a degree of self- 
possession and steadiness equal to the wickedness 
with which it was planned. The circumstances now 
clearly in evidence spread out the whole scene before 
us. Deep sleep had fallen on the destined victim 
and on all beneath his roof. A healthful old man, to 
whom sleep was sweet, the first sound slumbers of 
the night held him in their soft, but strong embrace ; 
4;he assassin enters, through the window already pre- 
pared, into an unoccupied apartment ; with noiseless 
foot he paces the lonely hall, half lighted by the 
moon ; he winds up the ascent of the stairs, and 
reaches the door of the chamber ; of this he moves 
the lock, by soft and continued pressure, till it turns 
on its hinges without noise ; and he enters and be- 
holds his victim before him ; the room is uncom- 
monly open to the admission of light ; the face of 
the innocent sleeper is turned from the murderer, 
and the beams of the moon, resting on the gray 
locks of his aged temple, show him where to strike , 
the fatal blow is given, and the victim passes, v/ith- 
out a struggle or a motion, from the repose of sleep 
to the repose of death. 

" It is the assassin's purpose to make sure work, 
and he plies the dagger, though it is obvious that 



154 A DREADFUL MISTAKE. 

life has been destroyed by the blow of the bhidj^eon ; 
he even raises the aged arm, that he may not fail in 
his aim at the heart, and rejilaces it again over the 
wounds of the poniard. To finish the picture, he 
explores the wrist for the pulse ; he feels for it, and 
ascertains that it beats no longer : it is accom- 
plished ; the deed is done ; he retreats, retraces his 
steps to the window, passes out through it as he 
came in, and escapes. lie has done the murder; 
no eye has seen him, no ear has heard him ; the 

secret is his own, and it is safe. 

» 

" Ah, gentlemen, that was a dreadful mistake ; 
such a secret can be safe nowhere. The whole 
creation of God has neither nook nor corner where 
the guilty can bestow it, and say it is safe. Not to 
speak of that eye which pierces through all dis- 
guises, and beholds every thing as in the splendor of 
noon, such secrets of guilt are never safe from de- 
tection, even by men. 

"True it is, generally speaking, that 'murder 
will out ; ' true it is, that Providence hath so or- 
dained, and doth so govern things, that those who 
break the great law of Heaven by shedding man's 
blood seldom succeed in avoiding discovery ; es- 
pecially in a case exciting so much attention as this, 
discovery must come, and will come, sooner or later. 
A thousand eyes turn at once to explore every man, 
every thing, every circumstance, connected with the 



! 
t 



EFFECT OF CONSCIENCE. 155 

time and place ; a thousand ears catch every whis- 
per ; a thousand excited minds intensely dwell on 
the scene, shedding all their light, and ready to kin- 
dle the slightest circumstance into a blaze of dis- 
covery. Meantime, the guilty soul cannot keep its 
own secret ; it is false to itself ; or, rather, it feels 
an irresistible impulse of conscience to be true to it- 
self; it labors under its guilty possession, and knows 
not what to do with it. The human heart was not 
made for the residence of such an inhabitant ; it 
finds itself preyed on by a torment which it dares 
not to acknowledge to God or man. A vulture is 
devouring it, and it can ask no sympathy or assist- 
ance either from heaven or earth. The secret 
which the murderer possesses soon comes to pos- 
sess him ; and like the evil spirits of which we read, 
it overcomes him, and leads him whithersoever it 
will ; he feels it beating at his heart, rising to his 
throat, and demanding disclosure ; he thinks the 
whole world sees it in his face, reads it in his eyes, 
and almost hears its workings in the very silence of 
his thoughts ; it has become his master ; it betrays 
his discretion, it breaks down his courage, it conquers 
his prudence. When suspicions from without begin 
to embarrass him, and the net of circumstances to 
entangle him, the fatal secret struggles with still 
greater violence to burst forth ; it must be con- 
fessed, it will be confessed ; there is no refuge 



156 MR. Webster's plea. 

from confession but suicide, and suicide is confes- 
sion." 

As a specimen of Mr. Webster's directness, clear- 
ness, and logical power, when arguing a. case to a 
jury, we give the following extract from the same 
plea. The counsel for the defendant had spoken of 
the evidence against the prisoner as " circumstantial 
stuff." Of this phrase Mr. Webster makes effective 
use ; it was a powerful weapon furnished him by his 
adversary. 

" And now, gentlemen, in examining this evidence, 
let us begin at the beginning, and see first what we 
know independent of the disputed testimony. This 
is a case of circumstantial evidence ; and these cir- 
cumstances, we think, are full and satisfactory. 
The case mainly depends upon them, and it is com- 
mon that offences of this kind must be proved in 
this wav. Midnio^ht assassins take no witnesses ; 
the evidence of the facts relied on has been some- 
what sneeringly denominated by the learned counsel 
' circumstantial stuff; ' but it is not such stuff as 
dreams are made of. Why does he not rend this 
stuff? Why does he not scatter it to the winds ? 
He dismisses it a little too summarily. It shall 
be my business to examine this stuff, and try its 
cohesion. 

" The letter from Palmer, at Belfast — is that no 
more than flimsy stuff? 



" CIRCUMSTANTIAL STUFF." 157 

" The fabricated letters from Kiiapp to the com- 
mittee, and to Mr. White — are they nothing but 
stuff? 

"The circumstance, that the housekeeper was 
away at the time the murder was committed, as it 
was agreed she should be — is that, too, a useless 
piece of the same stuff? 

" The facts that the key of the chamber door 
was taken out and secreted ; that the window was 
unbarred and unbolted — are these to be so slightly 
and so easily disposed of? 

*' It is necessary, gentlemen, to settle now, at the 
commencement, the great question of a conspiracy. 
If there was none, or the defendant was not a party, 
then there is no evidence here to convict him. If 
there was a conspiracy, and he is proved to have 
been a party, then these two facts have a strong bear- 
ing on others, and all the great points of inquiry. 

" The defendant's counsel take no distinct ground, 
as I have already said, on this point, either to admit 
or to deny. They choose to confine themselves to 
a hypothetical mode of speech. They say, suppos- 
ing there was a conspiracy, non sequitiir that the 
prisoner is guilty as principal. Be it so. But still, 
if there was a conspiracy, and if he was a conspir- 
ator, and helped to plan the murder, this may shed 
much light on the evidence which goes to charge 
him with the execution of that plan. 



158 THE CONSPIRACY. 

''We mean to make out the conspiracy, and that 
the defendant was a party to it, and then to draw 
all just inferences from these facts. 

" Let me ask your attention, then, in the first 
place, to those appearances, on the morning after 
the murder, which liave a tendency to show that it 
was done in pursuance of a preconcerted plan of 
operation. What are they ? A man was found 
murdered in his bed ; no stranger had done the 
deed — no one unacquainted with the house had 
done it; it was apparent that somebody within had 
opened, and that somebody without had entered ; 
there had obviously and certainly been concert and 
cooperation ; the inmates of the house were not 
alarmed when the murder was perpetrated ; the as- 
sassin had entered without any riot or any vio- 
lence ; he had found the way prepared before him. 
The house had been previously opened ; the win- 
dow was unbarred from within, and its fastening un- 
screwed ; there was a lock on the door of the cham- 
ber in which Mr. White slept, but the key was gone ; 
it had been taken away and secreted ; the footsteps 
of the murderer were visible, out doors, tending 
towards the window ; the plank by which he entered 
the window still remained ; the road he pursued had 
been thus prepared for him. The victim was slain, 
and the murderer had escaped ; every thing indicat- 
ed that somebody within had cooperated with some- 



DELIBERATE PLAN. 159 

body without. Every thing proclaimed that some of 
the inmates, or somebody having access to the house, 
had had a hand in the murder. On the face of the 
circumstances, it was apparent, therefore, tliat this 
was a premeditated, concerted murder ; that there 
had been a conspiracy to commit it. Who, then, 
were the conspirators ? If not found out, we are 
still groping in the dark, and the whole tragedy is 
still a mystery. 

" If the Knapps and the Crowninshields were not 
the conspirators in this murder, then there is a whole 
set of conspirators not yet discovered. Because, inde- 
pendent of the testimony of Palmer and Leighton, 
independent of all disputed evidence, we knovr, from 
uncontroverted facts, that this murder was, and must 
have been, the result of concert and cooperation 
between two or more. We know it was not done 
without plan and deliberation ; we see that whoever 
entered the house to strike the blow was favored 
and aided by some one who had been previously in 
the house, without suspicion, and who had prepared 
the way. This is concert, this is cooperation, this 
is conspiracy. If the Knapps and the Crownin- 
shields, then, were not the conspirators, who were ? 
Joseph Knapp had a motive to desire the death of 
Mr. White, and that motive has been shown. He 
was connected by marriage with the family of Mr. 
White ; his wife was the daughter of Mrs. Beck- 
ford, who was the only child of a sister of the de- 



160 THE WILL. 

ceased. The deceased was more than eighty years 
old, and liad no children ; his only heirs were neph- 
ews and nieces. • He was supposed to be possessed 
of a very large fortune, wliich would have descended, 
by law, to his several nephews and nieces in equal 
shares ; or, if there was a will, then according to the 
will. But as he had but two branches of heirs, the 
children of his brother, Henry White, and of Mrs. 
Beckford, each of these branches, according to the 
common idea, would have shared one half of his 
property. This popular idea is not legally correct ; 
but it is common, and very probably entertained by 
the parties. According to this idea, Mrs. Beckford, 
on Mr. White's death without a will, would have been 
entitled to one half of his ample fortune ; and .loseph 
Knapp had married one of her three children. 
There was a will, and this will gave, the bulk of the 
property to others ; and we learn from Palmer that 
one part of the design was to destroy the will before 
the murder was committed. There had been a pre- 
vious will, and that previous will was known or be- 
lieved to have been more favorable than the other to 
the Beckford family, so that by destroying the last 
will, and destroying the life of the testator at the 
same time, either the first and more favorable will 
would be set up, or the deceased would have no will, 
which would be, as was supposed, still more favora- 
ble ; but the conspirators not having succeeded in 
obtainirg and destroying the last will, though they 



KEY OF THAT LOCK. 161 

accomplished the murder, — that will being found m 
existence, and safe, and that will bequeathing the 
mass of property to others, — it seemed at the time 
impossible for Joseph Knapp, as for any one else, in- 
deed, but the principal devisee, to have any motive 
which should lead to the murder. The key which 
unlocks the whole mystery is the knowledge of the 
intention of the conspirators to steal the will. This 
is derived from Palmer, and it explains all ; it solves 
the whole marvel ; it shows the motive which actu- 
ated those ao:ainst whom there is much evidence, 
but who, without the knowledge of this intention, 
were not seen to have had a motive. This intention 
is proved, as I have said, by Palmer ; and it is so 
congruous with all the rest of the case, it agrees so 
well with all facts and circumstances, that no man 
could well withhold his belief, though the facts were 
stated by a still less credible witness. If one desi- 
rous of opening a lock turns over and tries a bunch 
of keys till he finds one that will open it, he natu- 
rally supposes he has found the key of that lock. 
So, in explaining circumstances of evidence which 
are apparently irreconcilable or unaccountable, if a 
fact be suggested, which at once accounts for all, 
and reconciles all, by whomsoever it may be stated, 
it is still difficult not to believe that such fact is the 
true fact belonging to the case. In this respect 
Palmer's testimony is singularly confirmed. If it 
11 



162 GUILT BETRAYS ITSELF. 

were false, his ingenuity could not furnish us such 
clear exposition of strang'e-appearing circumstances. 
Some truth not before known can alone do that." 

"The acts of the parties themselves furnish 
strong presumption of their guilt. What was done 
on the receipt of the letter from Maine ? This let- 
ter was signed by Charles Grant, Jr., a person not 
known to either of tiie Knapps, nor was it known 
to them that any other person beside the Crownin- 
shields knew of the conspiracy. This letter, by the 
accidental omission of tiie word .//•., fell into the 
hands of the father, when intended for the son ; the 
father carried it to Wenliam, where both the sons 
were. They both read it. Fix your eye steadily on 
this part of the circumstantial stuff, which is in the 
case, and see what can be made of it. This was 
shown to the two brothers on Saturday, the loth of 
May ; neither of them knew Palmer, and if they 
had known him, they could not know him to have 
been the writer of this letter. It was mysterious to 
them how any one at Belfast could have had knowl- 
edge of this affair. Their conscious guilt prevented 
due circumspection. They did not see the bearing 
of its publication. They advised their father to 
carry it to the committee of vigilance, and it was *so 
carried. On the Sunday following, Joseph began 
to think there might be something in it. Perhaps, 
in the mean time, he had seen one of the Crownin- , 
shields. He was apprehensive that they might be sus- 



% 



•% 



GREAT FOLLY. 163 

pected ; he was anxious to turn attejitioii from their 
family. What course did he adopt to eftect this 1 
He addressed (Hie letter, with a false name, to Mr. 
White, and another to the committee, and to com- 
plete tlie climax of his folly, he signed the letter 
addressed to the committee " Grant," the same name 
as that which was signed to the letter received from 
Belfast. It was in the knowledge of the committee 
that no person but the Knapps had seen this letter 
from Belfast, and that no other person knew its 
signature ; it must have been, therefore, irresistibly 
plain to them that one of the Knapps was the writer , 
of the letter received by the committee, charging the 
murder on Mr. White. Add to this the fact of its 
having been dated at Lynn, and mailed at Salem 
four days after it was dated, and who could doubt 
respecting it ? Have you ever read or known of 
folly equal to this ? Can you conceive of crime 
more odious and abominable ? Merely to explain the 
apjiarent mysteries of the letter from Palmer, they 
excite the basest suspicions against a man, whom, if 
tliey were innocent, they had no reason to believe 
guilty, and whom, if they were guilty, they most cer- 
tainly knew to be innocent. Could they have adopted 
amore direct method of exposing their own infamy ? 
The letter to the committee has intrinsic marks of 
a knowledge of this transaction. It tells the time 
and the manner in which the murder was committed. 



164 GUILT AND SUBTERFUGE. 

Every line speaks the writer's condemnation. In 
attempting to divert attention from his family, and 
to cliarge the guilt upon another, he indelibly fixes 
it upon himself. 

"Joseph Knapp requested Allen to put these letters 
into the post office, because, said he, " I wish to nip 
this silly affair in the bud." If this were not the 
order of an overruling Providence, I should say 
that it was the silliest piece of folly that w^as ever 
practised. INIark the destiny of crime ! It is ever 
obliged ty resort to such subterfuges ; it trembles in 
the broad light ; it betrays itself in seeking conceal- 
ment. He alone walks safely that walks uprightly. 
Who for a moment can read these letters and doubt 
of Joseph Knapp's guilt 1 The constitution of na- 
ture is made to inform against him. There is no 
corner dark enough to conceal him. There is no 
turnpike road broad enough or smooth enough for 
a man so guilty to walk in without stumbling. Every 
step proclaims his secret to every passenger. His 
own acts come out to fix his guilt. In attempting to 
char<re another with his own crime, he writes his 
own confession. To do away the effect of Palmer's 
letter, signed ' Grrant,' he writes a letter himself, and 
affixes to it the name of Grant. He writes in a 
disguised hand. But how could it happen that the 
same Grant should be in Salem that was at Belfast ? 
This has brought the whole thing out. Evidently 



3i 



IMPORTANCE OF THE PLEA. 165 

he did it, because he has adopted the same style. 
Evidently he did it, because he speaks of the price 
of blood, and of other circumstances connected with 
the murder, that no one but a conspirator could have 
known." 

These specimens are sufficient to show that the 
plea of Mr. Webster, on that occasion, was one of 
great power. It produced a thrilling effect. The 
prisoners were convicted, and it cannot be doubted 
that Mr. Webster's argument contributed in no small 
degree to secure that result. The excitement on 
the occasion was intense. The court house was * 
crowded, yet the stilhiess of the tomb reigned there 
during tlie delivery of this plea ; for it was believed 
that life or death was depending upon the words 
which were being uttered. 

Before leaving this trial, in which Mr. Webster 
occupied so important a part, it will be proper to 
call special attention to a few of the more extraor- 
dinary features of the astounding deed, for the com- 
mission of which the defendants were convicted and 
executed. 

It was remarkable that the evidence which first 
directed public attention to the guilty parties should 
have grown out of casual remarks which dropped 
from one of the criminals some months before the 
murder was committed, which remarks were revealed 
to the committee of vigilance by Hatch, who was 



166 REMARKABLE INCIDENTS. 

himself an imprisoned convict, in a distant part of 
the state, at the time of the perpetration of the 
bloody deed, and who, therefore, must have been 
isrnorant of all the circumstances connected with it. 

Little did Crowninshield imagine, when he ex- 
pressed, in the hearing of Hatch, his determination 
to put IMr. White to death, that he was furnishing 
evidence which would lead to his own apprehension 
for the murder. Yet so it was. And herein are 
we furnished with an illustration of the truth, that 
the wicked are insnared by the words of their 
mouth, and that, in the providence of God, a crim- 
inal is allowed to weave a net for his own entangle- 
ment, in which, after the commission of his crime, 
he is effectually caught. 

It was very extraordinary that the letter signed 
«' Charles Grant, Jr.," from Belfast, Maine, should 
have reached .T. J. Knapp, the fatjier, instead of .1. 
J. Knapp, .Tr., the son, for whom it was intended. 
Still more extraordinary was it, that when this letter 
was shown to .T. .T. Knapp, .Tr., instead of perceiving 
how strongly it would bear against him, he pretend- 
ed that it contained merely " trash," and advised 
his father to hand it to the committee of vigilance, 
thereby unwittingly furnishing them with evidence 
which resulted in directing their attention to him, 
and ultimately in revealing the whole conspiracy. 

It was strange that, after the apprehension of the 






THE CRIME PREDICATED ON ERRORS. 167 

• 

Knapps, Joseph should make a confession of the 
whole matter, upon the pledge of favor from the 
government, and then, after furnisliiitg the govern- 
ment with a solution of all the labyrinth of circum- 
stances connected with tlie tragedy, should withdraw 
that confession, refuse to testify upon the stand, and 
be willing himself to go to trial. It is believed that 
if he had adhered to his confession, his brother Frank 
would not have been convicted, because his confes- 
sion stated that, on the night of the murder, Crown- 
inshield told Frank, in Brown Street, to go home ; 
that he went home, went to bed, and then got up 
and returned to Brown Street, to learn the circum- 
stances of the deed. If this was beheved, then 
Frank would not have been convicted as a principal, 
because it would have appeared that he was not 
there to " aid and abet " in the murder, according 
to the legal signification of those terms. Whilst 
Joseph, being state's evidence, would not have been 
tried at all. 

It was extraordinary that the murder was pro- 
jected under the influence of two errors — one of 
law and the other of fact. The error of law was, 
that if Mr. White died without a will, Mrs. Beck- 
ford would inherit one half of his estate, whereas 
Joseph Rnapp knew that, by his will, he had left 
her a great deal less than one half. 

The error in fact was, that when the will, as was 



168 SNARES OF THE WICKED. 

supposed, was taken from Mr. White's iron chest, it 
proved to be the wrong will. Mr. Wliite had made 
one of later dute. So that the specific object of the 
murder was effectually defeated. 

It was also a remarkable development of the hard- 
ening nature of human depravity, that, on the night 
following the tragedy, Knapp should have watched 
with the body of the murdered old man, and at the 
funeral should have officiated as one of the chief 
mourners, even following him to the grave in that 
capacity, without, by the slightest word or act, cre- 
ating the least suspicion of his own guilt. 

Let the young be admonished, by the dreadful 
fate of these offenders, (one of whom committed sui- 
cide in prison, and the two others being executed,) 
to avoid evil associates. They cannot mingle with 
the w icked without being contaminated by them. In 
view of this thrilling tragedy, how significant is the 
lanffuafce of Solomon ! — 

" My son, if sinners entice thee, consent thou not. 
If they say. Come with us ; let us lay wait for blood ; 
let us lurk privily for the innocent without cause ; 
let us swallow them up alive, as the grave, and 
whole, as those that go down into the pit. We 
shall find all precious substance ; we shall fill our 
houses with spoil. Cast in thy lot among us ; let 
us all have one purse. My son, walk not thou in 
the way with them ; refrain thy foot from their path. 



WEBSTER AND MASON. 169 

For their feet run to evil, and make haste to shed 
blood. Surely in vain the net is spread in the sight 
of any bird. And they lay wait for their own blood; 
they lurk privily for their own lives. So are the 
ways of every one that is greedy of gain ; which 
taketh away the life of the owners thereof." 

Mr. Webster has been repeatedly heard to say 
that he was indebted in no small degree to Mr. 
Jeremiah Mason for his attainments in legal science, 
and his skill in argument. Mr. Mason was a most 
powerful competitor in any cause ; hence, when 
Webster was opposed to him, as was often the case, 
he was compelled to make a careful and elaborate 
preparation to meet His opponent. 

Joel Parker, LL. D., Royall professor in the Uni- 
versity of Cambridge, in his interesting address be- 
fore the students in the Law School, on the charac- 
ter of Daniel Webster as a jurist, says, — 

" Some half dozen years since, in a company of 
gentlemen, Mr. Webster was applied to for his opin- 
ion of Mr. Mason's ability as a lawyer. Speaking 
deliberately, and in a manner denoting his intention 
to give emphasis to what he uttered, he replied that 
lie had known, as a young man knows his superiors 
in age, the bar of a former generation, — all the 
leading men in it, — and he was intimately acquaint- 
ed with all the leading lawyers of the present bar 
of the United States ; but for himself, he had rather 



170 TRIAL OF A LEGISLATOR. 

meet, if it could be combined, all the talent and 
learning of the past and present bar of the United 
States, than Jeremiah Mason, single-handed and 
ah^ne. The man who had Jeremiali Mason for his 
counsel was sure of having his case tried as well as 
it was possible for hmnan ingenuity and learning to 
try it." * 

In a beautiful tribute to the character of Mr. 
Mason, at a bar meeting upon the occasion of his 
death, Mr. Webster said, " I am bound to say, that 
of my own professional discipUne and attainments, 
whatever they may be, I owe much to that close 
attention to the discharge of my duties which I was 
compelled to pay for nine successive years, from day 
to day, by Mr. Mason's efforts and arguments at the 
same bar. Fas est ah hoste doceri ; and I must have 
been unintelligent indeed not to have learned some- 
thing from the constant displays of that power which 
1 had so much occasion to see and to feel." 

It would appear, however, that there were 
" blows to take, as well as blows to give," from the 
time of the earliest meeting of Mr. Mason and Mr. 
Webster as opposing counsel. In another note to 
the Life of Chief Justice Smith, it is stated, appar- 
ently on the authority of Mr. Mason himself, that 
the first time they met was in a criminal trial. The 

* p. Harvey, Esq. 



MASON SURPRISED. 171 

defendant was indicted for counterfeitin<r. Mr. Ma- 
son was in the defence, and Mr. Webster, in the ab- 
sence of the attorney general, was apphed to by the 
solicitor for the county to act in behalf of the state. 
Mr. Mason, it is said, had heard of him as a " young ^ 
man of remarkable promise ; " but he had heard 
such things of young men before, and prepared him- 
self as he would have done to meet the attorney 
general. But he soon found that he had quite a 
.different person to deal with. The young man came 
down upon him " like a thunder shower," and Mr. 
Mason's client got off, as he thought, more on ac- 
count of the political feelings of the jury, than from 
the arguments of the counsel. Mr. Mason was par- 
ticularly struck with the high, open, and manly 
ground taken by Mr. Webster, who, instead of avail- 
ing himself of any technical advantage, or pushing 
the prisoner hard, confined himself to the main 
points of law and fact. Mr. Mason did not know 
how much allowance ought to be made for his being 
taken so by surprise, but it seemed to him that he 
had never since known Mr. Webster to show greater 
legal ability in an argument.* 

It may be added, that the defendant in that 
case had been a member of the legislature — one 
of the creators of law. This led Mr. Webster, in 

* Life of Judge Smith, p. 263. 



172 Webster's professional character. 

his argument to the jury, to say, in connection with 
the sentiment that no position in society could place 
a man above the reach of law, that " the majesty and 
im[)aitiality of the law were such, that it would 
bring even its guilty creator to its feet " — a passage 
which has been much admired for its felicity and 
power. 

In his own, and in other states, Mr. Webster was 
engaged in some of the most important cases ever 
tried in the country. In all of them he developed 
the same great talents, and extensive information 
upon the points of law involved ; the same clear- 
ness, terseness, directness, and logical power, wheth- 
er pleading to the court or to the jury. These cases 
embraced almost every principle which is made the 
subject of litigation in our courts, and in all of them 
Mr. Webster proved himself to be at home. Those 
who wish to know the character of his pleas on 
those ffreat occasions are referred to his works, as 
edited by the Hon. Edward Everett. They cannot 
be t30 strongly recommended to the young men of 
Dur land. 



CHAPTER X. 

Mr. Webster in the House of Representatives. — His first 
Speech. — Its Impression. — Was successful. — Not in Haste 
to debate. — His Qualities as an Orator. — An Attack on New 
England. — Webster and Bell. — A crowded Senate. — His 
Introduction. — His Allusion to the Old Bay State. — The 
thrilling- Effect. — Meeting- in the East Room. — Importance of 
the Speech. — Webster's transcendent Abilities. — Seventh of 
March Speech. — Its Effect. — Different Opinions concerning- it. 

No individual possessed of Mr. Webster's abili- 
ties could remain long in the quiet practice of any 
profession. His country needed his talents, and de- 
"manded that all should be laid as an offering upon 
the altar of patriotism. Great genius and great 
modesty are ofttimes inseparable companions. This 
was seen in the case of Mr. Webster. He was not 
anxious to enter into the troubled whirlpool of poli- 
tics. He was satisfied with his profession, and was 
not desirous to relinquish it for the honors or emol- 
uments of pubUc office. Yet, at the call of his 
fellow-citizens, he consented to enter upon the un- 
tried labors and responsibilities of congressional 
life. 

At the early age of thirty he was chosen to a seat 
in the national House of Representatives, where he 

173 



174 WEBSTER IN CONGRESS. 

was immediately brought into contact with a galaxy 
of the most distinjruished men of the country. He 
was at once appointed on the most important com- 
mittee in tlie house — that of foreign relations. 
The United States were then at war with Great 
Britain, and consequently an unusual amount of re- 
sponsibility and labor devolved upon this committee. 
Although he was now introduced upon a stage 
where every thing was novel to him, — where the 
characters, the scenes, the machinery, and the cast 
and strength of the company, were all to be learned, 
— yet he soon proved himself to be an apt scholar. 
Yea, before long he became a teacher there. Not 
satisfied with being like a spectator at a theatre, — 
an inactive beholder of other men's performances, — 
he preferred to take part in the important drama* 
himself. Accordingly, in the early part of the ses- 
sion, he presented a series of resolutions of inquiry, 
concerning the repeal of the Berlin and Milan de- 
crees, and on the 10th of June, 1813, he made his 
first speech in Congress in their support. As no 
report of the speech has been preserved, we have 
no other means of knowing its character, and tha 
impression which it produced, than from tradition, 
and the remarks of those who were favored with the 
privilege of hearing it. Mr. Everett says that it 
was a calm and statesmanlike exposition of the ob- 
ject of the resolutions he had introduced, and was 



HIS FIRST CONGRESSIONAL SPEECH. 175 

marked by all the characteristics of Mr. "W.'s ma- 
turest parliamentary efforts — " moderation of tone, 
precision of statement, force of reasoning, absence 
of ambitious rhetoric and highflovvn language, occa- 
sional bursts of true eloquence, and, pervading the 
whole, a genuine and fervid patriotism." 

Mr. March says of it, " The opening of his speech 
was simple, unaffected, without pretension, gradually 
gaining the confidence of his audience by its trans- 
parent sincerity and freedom from aught resembling 
display. As the orator continued and grew animated, 
his words became more fiuent and his lanoua^e more 
nervous ; a crowd of thoughts seemed rushing upon 
him, all eager for utterance. He held them, how- 
ever, under the command of his mind, as greyhounds 
with a leash, till he neared the close of his speech, 
when, warmed by the previous restraint, he poured 
them all forth, one after another, in glowing lan- 
guage. 

" The speech took the house by surprise, not so 
much from its eloquence as from the vast amount 
of historical knowledge and illustrative ability dis- 
played in it. How a person untrained to forensic 
contests, and unused to public affairs, could exhibit 
so much parliamentary tact, such nice appreciation 
of the difficulties of a difficult question, and such 
(quiet facility in surmounting them, puzzled the mind. 
The age and inexperience of the speaker had pre- 



76 OPINION OF CHIEF JUSTICE MARSHALL. 

pared the house foi- no such display, and astonisliment 
for a time subdued the expression of its admiration." 

" No member before," says a person then in the 
house, " ever riveted the attention of the house so 
closely, in his first speech. Members left their 
seats where they could not see the speaker face to 
face, and sat down, or stood on the floor, fronting 
him. All listened attentively and silently during 
the whole speech ; and when it was over, many went 
up and warmly congratulated the orator ; am«ng 
whom were some, not the most niggard of their 
compliments, who most dissented from the views he 
had expressed." 

Chief Justice Marshall, writing to .Fudge Story, 
some time after this speech, says, " At the time when 
this speech was delivered, I did not know Mr. Web 
ster ; but I was so much struck with it, that I did 
not hesitate then to state that Mr. Webster was a very 
able man, and would become one of the first states- 
men in America, and perhaps the very first." 

" Such praise, from such a man," says Judge 
Story, " ought to be very gratifying. Consider that 
he is now seventy-five years old, and that he speaks 
of his recollections of some eighteen years ago with 
a freshness which shows how deeply your reasoning 
impressed itself upon his mind. Keep this in memo- 



riam rci^ * 



T le speech immediately raised its author to the 
* Story to Webster. 



HIS SPEECH SUCCESSFUL. 177 

first consideration in the house, and gained him 
great reputation throughout the country. 

Not only was this maiden speech commended in 
the strongest terms by those who heard it, but, more 
than this, it accomplished the object for which it was 
delivered, viz., the adoption of the resolution, in re- 
ply to which, Mr. Monroe, the secretary of state, 
presented an elaborate and full report, furnishing 
all the information that was called for. 

It will not be possible, in the limits which we have 
assigned for this volume, to give at any length the 
history of Mr. Webster's congressional career, which 
extended through a series of forty years ; neither is 
it necessary for those for whom we write. It must 
suffice to say, that during this long period he was 
a member of the national Congress, either as a mem- 
ber of the House of Representatives or of the Senate. 
He was not a frequent speaker ; he reserved his 
strength for great occasions. An important motto 
with him was, " Some questions will improve by keep- 
ing." Whilst, therefore, others dashed impatiently 
into debate upon the first opportunity, he calmly 
waited. By listening to the discussions of others, 
he not only understood what was said, but saw clear- 
ly what was left unsaid. He not only perceived on 
what points light was shed, but also what was left 
in darkness. He also learned the objections which 
were cherished to any views which he intended to 

12 



178 WEBSTER AS A DEBATER. 

advocate ; and consequently, wher lie arose, he was 
better prepared to meet the issues of the case tlian 
those who took tlie initiative in the debate. He was 
prepared to shed hght upon those points which were 
left in shadow, and unravel the difficulties which 
otJiers had in vain tried to solve, or which, in con- 
scious weakness, they had wisely left untouched. 
He was therefore always listened to with interest 
and profit. He always contributed something new, 
either in fact or argument. 

As a debater he was unsurpassed : with deep, so- 
norous, bass tones of voice, susceptible of a great 
variety of modulation ; with deep-set, dark, bril- 
liant eyes, overshadowed by a higli projecting fore- 
head, yet susceptible of great expression ; with a tall, 
well-developed, manly form, — he possessed all the 
physical elements of a great orator. When to these 
it is added, that he always possessed an accurate 
and extensive knowledge of every question on which 
he intended to speak, and of its various relations to 
collateral themes, that he exhibited a marked sim- 
plicity in the statement of his propositions, a won- 
derful power of condensation in his use of language, 
great care in his narrative of facts, a lucid arrange- 
ment in tlie divisions of his subject, close logical 
consecutiveness in his reasoning, and a delivery at 
first calm and deliberate, but fg he advanced in his 
argument, impassioned and eai lest, it need awaken 



■r. 
« 



WEBSTER AN ORATOR. 179 

no surprise that he was listened to with equal pleas- 
ure by highlj-cultivated scholars, and by plain, un- 
lettered men. 

An amusing evidence of Mr. Webster's simplicity 
of expression is furnished in the following anecdote : 
On the arrival of * that singular genius, David 
Crockett, at Washington, he had an opportunity 
of hearing Mr. Webster. A short time afterwards 
he met him, and abruptly accosted him as follows : 
" Is this Mr. Webster ? " " Yes, sir." " The 
great Mr. Webster, of Massachusetts ? " continued 
he, with a significant tone. " I am Mr. Webster, 
of Massachusetts," was the calm reply. " Well, 
sir," continued the eccentric Crockett, * I had heard 
that you were a great man, but I don't think so ; I 
heard your speech, and understood every word you 
said.'''' Mr. Webster was always understood ; he 
possessed the rare ability of presenting the most 
difficult and abstruse themes in language so simple, 
yet appropriate and beautiful, that any individual of 
even ordinary capacity could comprehend them. 

After, by a few forensic efforts, he had estabhshed 
his reputation as an orator, a report that he was to 
speak upon any subject was sure to fill the Senate 
chamber to its utmost capacity. One of his most 
remarkable displays of eloquence was given in his 
great debate with Colonel Hayne, of South Carolina. 

This latter gentleman had made in :he Senate 



180 ATTACK OF COLONEL HAYNE. 

what was regarded as a most unjustifiable and vio- 
lent attack upon Mr. Webster and the institutions 
of New England. The speech produced a profound 
sensation. If its false statements and erroneous prin- 
ciples were not corrected, there was danger of its 
doing much mischief 

Mr. Webster felt calh^d upon to reply. At the 
same time he regarded himself as placed in a critical 
position ; and the more so as he was aware that some 
of his political friends might not agree with the views 
he was about to present in answer to Colonel 
Hayne. It appeared to him that the constitution 
and the peace of the country were in danger. He 
earnestly desired -to give utterance to his sentiments, 
and yet he did not wish to assume a position adverse 
to any of his friends. On the morning of the day 
on which he made his reply, he invited Hon. Mr. 
Bell, of New Hampshire, into the robing room of 
the Senate, and revealed to him his embarrassment. 
" You know, Mr. Bell, my constitutional opinions : 
there are among my friends in the Senate some who 
may not concur in them. What is expedient to be 
done ? " "I advise you," said Mr. Bell, in a very 
emphatic manner, " to speak out boldly and fully 
your thoughts upon the subject. It is a critical mo- 
ment," he added, " and it is time, it is high time, 
that the people of this country should know what 
this constitution ^5." 



MR. bell's advice. 181 

" Then," replied Mr. Webster, in a calm, but de- 
termined manner, " by the blessing of Heaven, they 
shall learn this day, before the sun goes down, what 
I understand it to be." 

Thanks to Mr. Bell for his word of encourage- 
ment at that trying moment ; it had its influence. 

No one has given a more lifelike and vivid ac- 
count of that great occasion than Mr. March, and 
wc are persuaded that we cannot render a better 
service to our readers tlian by transferring a part of 
his description to our pages. 

" It was on Tuesday, .Tanuary the 26th, 1839, — 
a day to be hereafter forever memorable in senato- 
rial annals, — that the Senate resumed the considera- 
tion of Foot's resolution. There never was be- 
fore, in the city, an occasion of so much excitement. 
To witness this great intellectual contest, multitudes 
of strangers had for two or three days previous been 
rushing into the city, and the hotels overflowed. As 
early as nine o'clock of this morning, crowds poured 
into the Capitol, in hot haste ; at twelve o'clock, the 
hour of meeting, the Senate chamber — its galleries, 
floor, and even lobbies — was filled to its utmost 
capacity. The very stairways were dark with men, 
who hung on to one another hke bees in a swarm. 

" The House of Representatives was early desert- 
ed. An adjournment would have hardly made it 
emptier. The speaker, it is true, retained his chair, 



182 THE SENATE CROWDED. 

but no business of moment was, or could be, attend- 
ed to. Members all rusbed in to bear Mr. Webster, 
and no call of tbe bouse or otber parliamentary 
proceedings could compel tbem back. Tbe floor 
of tbe Senate was so densely crowded, tbat persons 
once in could not get out, nor cbange tbeir position ; 
in tbe rear of tbe vice-presidential cbair, tbe crowd 
was particularly intense. Dixon II. Lewis, tben a 
representative from Alabama, became wedged in 
here. From bis enormous size, it was impossible 
for bim to move witbout displacing a vast portion of 
tbe multitude. Unfortunately, too, for bim, be was 
jammed in directly bebind tbe cbair of tbe vice 
president, wbere be could not see, and bardly bear, 
tbe speaker. By slow and laborious effort — paus- 
ing occasionally to breatbe — be gained one of the 
windows, which, constructed of painted glass, flank 
tbe chair of the vice president on either side. 
Here be paused, unable to make more headway ; 
but determined to see Mr. Webster as he spoke, with 
his knife he made a large hole in one of tbe panes 
of the glass ; which is still visible as be made it. 
Many were so placed as not to be able to see the 
speaker at all. 

" Tbe courtesy of senators accorded to tbe fairer 
sex room on tbe floor — the most gallant of them 
their own seats. The gay bonnets and brilliant 



MR. WEBSTER PREPARED. 183 

dresses threw a varied and picturesque beauty over 
the scene, softening and embellishing it. 

" Seldom, if ever, has a speaker in this or any 
other country had more pov»^erful incentives to exer- 
tion — a subject, the determination of which involved 
the most important interests, and even duration, of 
the repubhc ; competitors unequalled in reputation, 
ability, or position ; a name to make still more glo- 
rious, or lose forever ; and an audience comprising 
not only persons of this country most eminent in 
intellectual greatness, but representatives of other 
nations, where the art of eloquence had flourished for 
ages. Ail the soldier seeks in opportunity was here. 

" Mr. Webster perceived, and felt equal to, the 
destinies of the moment. The very greatness of 
the hazard exhilarated him. His spirits rose with 
the occasion. He awaited the time of onset with a 
stern and impatient joy. He felt like the war horse 
of the Scriptures, who ' paweth in the valley, and 
rejoiceth in his strength ; who goeth on to meet the 
armed men; who sayeth among the trumpets. 
Ha, ha ! and who smelleth the battle afar off, the 
thunder of the captains and the shouting.' 

" A confidence in his own resources, springing 
from no vain estimate of his power, but the lei-iti- 
mate offspring of previous severe mental discipline, 
sustained and excited him. He had gauged his op 
ponents, his subject, and Minsclf. 



184 Webster's self-possession. 

*• He was, too, at this period, in tlie very prime 
of manhood. He had reached middle age — an 
era in the hte of man when tlie facidties, physical 
or intellectual, may be supposed to attain their fullest 
organization and most perfect development. What- 
ever there was in him of intellectual energy and 
vitality, the occasion, his full life and high ambition, 
miffht well brins: forth. 

" He never rose on an ordinary occasion to ad- 
dress an ordinary audience more seli-possessed. 
There was no tremulousness in his voice or man- 
ner ; nothing hurried, nothing sinudated. The calm- 
ness of superior strength was visible every where — 
in countenance, voice, and bearing. A deep-seated 
conviction of the extraordinary character of the 
emergency, and of his ability to control it, seemed 
to possess him wholly. If an observer, more than 
ordinarily keen-sighted, detected at times something 
like exultation in his eye, he presumed it sprang from 
the excitement of the moment, and the anticipation 
of victory. 

" The anxiety to hear the speech was so intense, 
irrepressible, and universal, that no sooner had the 
vice president assumed the chair, than a motion was 
made, and unanimously carried, to postpone the or- 
dinary preliminaries of senatorial action, and to 
take up immediately the consideration of the reso- 
lution. 




WEBSTER'S REPLY TO HAY>E, I> THE V. S. SE>ATE. 



HIS EXORDIUM. 185 

" Mr. Webster rose and addressed the Senate. 
His exordium is known by heart every whert : ' ]V|^r. 
President, when the mariner has been tossed, for 
many days, in thick weather, and on an unknown 
sea, he naturally avails himself of tlie first pause in 
the storm, the earliest glance of the sun, to take his 
latitude, and ascertain how far the elements have 
driven him from his true course. Let us imitate this 
prudence, and, before we float further on the waves 
of this debate, refer to the point from which we de- 
parted, that we may, at least, be able to form some 
conjecture where we nov^^ are. I ask for the read- 
ing of the resolution.' 

" There wanted no more to enchain the attention. 
There was a spontaneous, though silent, expression 
of eager approbation, as the orator concluded these 
opening remarks ; and, while the clerk read the 
resolution, many attempted the impossibility of get- 
ting nearer the speaker. Every head was inclined 
closer towards him, every ear turned in the direc- 
tion of his voice, and that deep, sudden, mysterious 
silence foilov»^ed, which always attends fulness of 
emotion. From the sea of upturned faces before 
him, the orator beheld his thoughts reflected as from 
a mirror. The varying countenance, the suffused 
eye, the earnest smile, and ever-attentive look, as- 
sured him of his audience's entire sympathy. If 
among his hearers there were those who affected at 



186 FIRST IMPRESSIONS. 

first an indifference to his glomng thoughts and fer- 
vcj;it periods, the difficult mask was soon laid aside, 
and profound, undisguised, devoted attention fol- 
lowed. In tlie earlier part of his speech, one of his 
principal opponents seemed deeply engrossed in the 
careful perusal of a newspaper he held before his 
face ; but this, on nearer approach, proved to be 
vpsidc down. In truth, all, sooner or later, volunta- 
rily, or in spite of themselves, were wholly carried 
away by the eloquence of the orjitor. 

" Those who had doubted IMr. Webster's ability 
to cope with and overcome his opponents were 
fully satisfied of their error before he had proceeded 
far in his speech. Their fears soon took another 
direction. When they heard his sentences of pow- 
erful thought, towering, in accumulative grandeur, 
one above the other, as if the orator strove, Titan- 
like, to reach the very heavens themselves, they 
were giddy with an apprehension that he would 
break down in his flight. They dared not believe 
that genius, learning, any intellectual endowment, 
however uncommon, that was simply mortal, could 
sustain itself long in a career seemingly so perilous. 
They feared an Icarian fall. 

" Ah, who can ever forget, that was present to 
hear, the tremendous, the awful burst of eloquence, 
with which the orator spoke of the Old Bay State ? 
or tbfe tones of deep pathos in which the words were 
pronounced ? — 



1 



HIS DEFENCE OF MASSACHUSETTS. 187 

" * Mr. President, I shall enter on no encomium 
upon Massachusetts. There she is — behold her, 
and judge for yourselves. There is her history — 
the world knows it by heart ! The past, at least, 
is secure. There is Boston, and Concord, and Lex- 
ington, and Bunker Hill — and there they will re- 
main forever. The bones of her sons, falling in the 
greal struggle for independence, now lie mingled 
with the soil of every state, from New England to 
Georgia — and there they will lie forever. And, 
sir, where American Liberty raised its first voice, 
and where its youth was nurtured and sustained, 
there it still lives, in the strength of its manhood, 
and full of its original spirit. If discord and dis- 
union shall wound it — if party strife and blind 
ambition shall hawk at and tear it — if folly and 
madness, if uneasiness under salutary and neces- 
sary restraint, shall succeed to separate it from that 
Union, by which alone its existence is made sure, it ^ 
will standi in the end, by the side of that cradle in 
which its infancy was rocked ; it will stretch forth 
its arm, with whatever of vigor it may still retain, 
over the friends who gather round it ; and it will 
fall at last, if fall it must, amidst the proudest inon- 
uments of its own glory, and on the very spot of its 
origin.' 

^' What New England heart was there but throbbed 
with vehemenln tumultuous, irrepressible emotion, as 



188 THE SENSATION PRODUCED. 

he dwelt upon New England siiflerings, New Eng- 
land struggles, and New England triumphs, during 
the war of the revolution ? There was scarcely a 
dry eye in the Senate ; all hearts were overcome ; 
grave judges, and men grown old in dignified life, 
turned aside their heads to conceal the evidences of 
their emotion. 

" In one corner of the gallery was ckistered a 
group of Massachusetts men. They had hung from 
the first moment upon the words of the speaker, with 
feelings variously but always warmly excited, deepen- 
ing in intensity as he proceeded. At first, while the 
orator was going through his exordium, they held 
their breath and hid their faces, mindful of the sav- 
age attack upon him and ^ew England, and the 
fearful odds against him, her champion ; as he went 
deeper into his speech, they felt easier ; when he 
turned Hayne's flank, on Banquo's ghost, they 
breathed freer and deeper. But now, as he alluded 
to Massachusetts, their feelings were strained to the 
highest tension ; and when the orator, concluding 
his encomium upon the land of their birth, turned, 
intentionally or otherwise, his burning eye full upon 
them', thei/ shed tears like girls ! 

"No one who was not present can understand 
the excitement of the scene. No one who was caii 
give an adequate description of it. No word-paint- 
ing can convey the deep, intense 6iiithusiasm, the 



MR. Everett's testimony. 189 

reverential attention, of that vast assembly, nor 
limner transfer to canvas their earnest, eager, awe- 
struck countenances. Though language wore as 
subtile and flexiWe as thought, it still would be 
impossible to represent the full idea of the scene. 
There is something intangible in an emotioft, which 
cannot be transferred. Tlie nicer shades of feeUng 
elude pursuit. Every description, therefore, of , the 
occasion, seems to the narrator himself most tame, 
spiritless, uujust. 

*' Much of the instantaneous eflect of the speech 
arose, of course, from the orator's delivery — the 
tones of his voice, his countenance, and manner. 
These die mostly with the occasion that calls them 
forth; the impression is lost in the attempt at 
transmission from one mind to another. They can 
only be described in general terms. ' Of the effec- 
tiveness of Mr. Webster's manner, in many parts,' 
says Mr. Everett, ' it w^ould be in vain to attempt to 
give any one not present the faintest idea. It has 
been my fortune to hear some of the ablest speeches 
of the greatest living orators on both sides of the 
water ; but I must confess, I never heard any thing 
which so completely reatlzed my conception of what 
Demosthenes was when he delivered the oration for 
the crown.' " 

Another gentleman who was present on that deep- 
ly interesting occasion, in describing tlie effect pro- 



190 hayne's acknowledgment. 

duced upon his own mind by this speech of Mr. 
Webster, said, — 

" lie was a totally different thing from any public 
speaker I ever heard. I sometimes felt as if I were 
looking- at a mammoth treading, at an equable and 
stately pace, his native canebrake, and, without 
apparent consciousness, crushing obstacles which na- 
ture had never designed as impediments to him." 

On the evening of the day on wliich this great 
speech was delivered, the president held a levee in 
the White House, as4iis mansion is called. A large 
and brilliant company were assembled. The fanious 
east room was crowded. There were representa- 
tives, senators, judges, naval officers, gentlemen of 
distinction from abroad, private citizens, ajid ladies, 
all attired in elegant costume befitting the occasion. 
At one end of this spacious apartment was Colonel 
Hayne, surrounded by his friends ; at the other end 
was Daniel Webster, in the centre of a group of his 
admirers. Durinijr the evenino^ Mr. Havne made 
his way to the opposite end of the room, for the 
purpose of expressing his congratulations to his 
distinguished opponent. Mr. Webster saw him ap- 
proaching, and when he had arrived sufficiently near, 
he advanced with his hand extended, and in his ac- 
customed familiar manner said, " How are you. 
Colonel Hayne? " to which the colonel immediately 
replied, " None th^ hJtir for you, siry A frank 
acknowled'!:nient of a pakifal Irulh. 



•o' — I 



IMPORTANCE OF THIS SPEECH. 191 

Mr. Webster's reply in the Senate to Mr. Hayne 
was soon widely circulated. It was printed in the 
papers of all the states of the Union ; it was read 
and commented on by thousands ; it assisted to 
dissipate tlie dark clouds which were gathering over 
our country ; it arrested nullification ; it neutral- 
ized the effect of wrong views respecting state rights, 
and the relation of the several states to the national 
government, by presenting those which were correct ; 
it rendered important assistance in saving the coun- 
try from a civil war, and perhaps from a dissolution 
of" the Union. The crisis was one of great respon- 
sibility, and nobly was it met. This single speech, 
viewed in connection with the circumstances under 
which it was delivered, and the important effects 
which followed it, was enough to have given him 
great and permanent renown, though he had per- 
formed no other public act during his life ; but when 
we remember that this was only one of a long series 
of important acts, scattered over a period of forty 
years, in which Mr. Webster proved himself equal 
to every occasion, and competent to suggest reme- 
dies, in accordance with his views of the constitution, 
for every difficulty, however great or intricate, in 
which the nation was involved, our admiration of his 
transcendent abilities is greatly increased. 

Another speech which was delivered by Mr. 
Webster in the Senate of the United States, and 



192 SEVENTH OF MARCH SPEECH. 

which produced a profound sensation throughout the 
country, was given on the 7th of March, 1850, and 
is in his printed works entitled tlie Constitution 
and the Union ; it is more generally known as his 
speech in su])port of the fugitive slave bill. As 
this was one of the most important speeches of Mr. 
Webster during his long congressional career, it is 
proper that we allude to it in this connection. 

It should be remembered that when the union of 
the states was formed, a number of the states at the 
north, as well as those at the south, sanctioned sla- 
very. It was no uncommon thing for the slaves — 
apprentices and servants — to escape from one state 
and flee into another ; it was, therefore, deemed 
important that, in the constitution of the United 
States, provision should be made for the reclaiming 
of these fugitives. The south was unwilling to4brm 
a union with the north without such provision. 
The north consented ; it was accordingly inserted 
in the constitution, that persons held to service in 
one state, who should escape and flee into another 
state, might be reclaimed by those who held them 
as servants. With this the Southern States were 
satisfied, and believing that in this matter the north 
was acting in good faith, they cheerfully came into 
the Union. 

In tiie course of years, great difficulty was expe- 
rienced in executing this provision of the constitu- 



NATIONAL EXCITEMENT. 193 

tion. The men who framed that important docu- 
ment passed awaj ; other generations arose and 
took their places ; amongst these were many who 
regretted the existence of this provision, and who 
were unwiUing to comply with it. The legislatures 
of some of the states passed laws adverse to it, and 
designed to impede its execution. Associations were 
formed at the north to aid the flight of slaves into 
Canada, which were instrumental in bringing many 
out of bondage into the enjoyment of personal lib- 
erty. The south became irritated, accused the 
Northern States of violating the constitution, and 
threatened to withdraw from the Union. The ex- 
citement occasioned by this state of things was wide- 
spread and intense. It was believed by some that 
the Union was in'dansrer. 

Under these circumstances, Mr. Webster felt it to 
be his duty to exert himself to the full extent of his 
ability to allay the universal agitation. For this 
purpose he delivered, on the 7th of March, 1850, 
his great speech for the Constitution and the Union, 
in which he favored the passage of a law for re- 
claiming fugitive slaves. 

This speech awakened widely different feelings 
throughout the country. 

There were those who regarded it as evidence of 
treason to freedom — as an act which sullied what 
would otherwise have been his spotless fame. Many 
13 



194 OPPOSITE OPINIONS. 

of his own politic.il friends deeply regretted the po- 
sition which he then assumed. The pulpit and the 
press poured out upon hitn their burning anathemas. 
No language was too strong in which to give expres- 
sion to the animadversions which were indulged.' 
But others took a directly opposite view. They re- 
garded it as preeminently judicious and timely, as a 
neutralizing element, thrown into the caldron of 
public opinion, where the elements of disunion were 
in violent effervescence. It appeared to them as the 
greatest and most valual»le offering Mr. Webster 
ever made for his country's good — as the crown- 
ing glory of his life. 

The following extracts are presented as speci- 
mens of these opposite views. The first is from 
an article on Mr. Webster in on^ of our leading 
Quarterlies. 

" We were in Boston when the telegraph brought 
a few. brief lines, indicating the positions of that 7th 
of March speech. Almost every body seemed filled 
with amazement, and suggested that the Washington 
telegraphist must be a mischievous wag, or that the 
lightning had falsified the message with whose deliv- 
\ ery it had been charged. The wisest editors con- 
fessed themselves puzzled, and besought the public 
jto suspend their judgment till the facts could be 
learned. 

" The speech itself came in due time, and then 






EXTRACT FROM A REVIEW. 195 

there was doubt no longer. The whole north 
seemed indignant, and Massachusetts hung her head 
in mortification. Even in her legislative halls, men 
who had never been suspected of radical tendencies 
shook their heads meaningly, and muttered of 
treachery and Benedict Arnold. The Bay State felt 
that her honest pride had been heartlessly humbled, 
and her confidence abused. But Daniel Webster 
was a great man, having great influence ; and the 
question was mooted, at first privately, whether we 
could afford to lose him. The tone of the press was 
changed ; the legislature laid the proposition to re- 
quest him to resign his seat under the table ; politi- 
cal commentators wrote parodies on the speech ; the 
merchants apologized for its seeming severity on 
northern heresies*; the pulpit pleaded for moderation ; 
a thousand men of standing and property wrote him 
a letter of thanks ; he himself came on, and rode 
through the streets of Boston, telling her, as he went, 
that he was on the road of political safety ; and 
then we knew that the battle of freedom was to be 
fought^ not only without his assistance, but with his 
giant form towering up in the van of the hosts of 
despotistn, making a mock of our faith and our 
feebleness." 

The next is from a Eulogy of Daniel Web- 
ster, by a distinguished divine. 

" At a later period, and nearer to our own times, 



196 EULOGY. 

the prevalence at the north of liostility to southern 
institutions gave birth to projects by which the 
Union and the constitution were again endangered 
— the Union by fostering a spirit of desperate sec- 
tional animosity, the constitution by trampling 
on the guaranties established by it for the protec- 
tion of the rights of the slaveliolding states. 
Through the excitement consequent upon these 
projects, the public business was brought to a stand, 
and the public mind dismayed with the apprehension 
of coming evils. In this crisis, the veteran senator 
from Massachusetts was seen again at his post, look- 
ing somewhat older, but showing no abatement 
either in the power of his mind or the fire of his 
patriotism. He stood where he always had stood, 
and where he had promised he should always be 
found — for the constitution and the Union. The 
assailants came from the opposite point of the 
compass, and so he had faced about ; but he had 
not changed sides. It was no longer the gay and 
prancing chivalry of the south which he had to en- 
counter ; but a sturdy and multitudinous n^^rthern 
constituency, and foremost among them his old 
friends from Massachusetts, with whom 'and for 
whom he had stood so long, now advancing under 
new leaders, and impelled to constantly new en- 
croachments by the aggressive force of moral and 
religious convictions. The impending contest im- 



A SEVERE TRIAL. 197 

posed upon him the severest trial of his life. It 
required his parting with old friends, for whom he 
cherished profound esteem, and whose animating 
convictions on the great question at issue were 
deeply shared by him, in every thing but in their 
threatening aspect to the Union and the constitution. 
But so long as he believed these to be in danger, it 
concerned him little who were friends or foes. In 
the similar crisis just referred to, he had united in 
the defence of the constitution with an administra- 
tion to the general policy of which he was strongly 
opposed, and against which he had always acted ; 
and he was prepared now, in a case equally involv- 
ing the stability of the government, to separate from 
those whose general policy he approved and had al- 
ways supported. He foresaw the storm he was 
raising ; but it did not move him from his purpose. 
He was willing now, as before, to take his chance 
among those upon whom blows might fall first and 
fall thickest. And accordingly on the 7th of March 
his voice was again heard, in tones as earnest as evet* 
came from his lips, speaking, not as a Massachusetts 
man, nor as a northern man, but as an American, 
and as a member of the Senate of the United 
States. « He felt,' he said, ' that he had a duty to 
perform, a part to act, not for his own security, for 
he was looking out for no fragment upon Avhich to 
float away from the wreck, if wreck there must be, 



198 TUE RESULT. 

but for the good of the whole, for tlie preservation 
of the Union.' It lias turned out here, as before, 
that the post of danger, assumed voluntarily in the 
spirit of self-sacrifice, became the post of honor. 
By a singular felicity of fortune, Mr. Webster be 
came, the. second time, the principal instrument of a 
deliverance as signal as any which has occurred in 
the history of tlie nation. By common consent he 
is entitled to the principal credit of this great settle- 
ment, in wliich the north and the south have once 
more embraced each other with fraternal affection, 
and under whibh the country has resumed its wonted 
career of peace and prosperity." 

The above quotations are sufficient to convey an 
idea of the conflicting opinions which were cherished 
of Mr. Webster's course on that trying occasion by 
different portions of the community. 

This diversity of sentiment will long exist, and 
will doubtless have — whether justly or unjustly — 
great influence upon the opinions of men, not only 
respecting his policy and conduct in that particular 
instance, but also as to his general character. 



CHAPTER XT. 

Ezekiel Webster. — A noble Mother. — An affecting Night 
Scene. — Fraternal Attachment. — Touching Tribute of Affec- 
tion. — A beautiful Letter. — Dedications. — Living Monu- 
ments. — The Profile. — Mother's Garden. — Mr. Webster 
visits his Grave. — The Cemetery. — His Remarks. — Menu 
mental Inscriptions. — Mr. Webster's Poetry, '< The Memory 
of the Heart." 

With all his greatness, Mr. Webster was a man 
of tender sensibility. His domestic attachments 
were strong. His exalted honors did not dry up 
the fountains of deep feeling. Several incidents, 
illustrative of these traits of character, we propose 
to group together in the present chapter. 

While Mr. Webster was pursuing his course of 
studies at college, his brother Ezekiel was at home, 
assisting his father in carrying on the farm. He 
was a strong young man, both physically and intel- 
lectually. Daniel appreciated his talents, and be- 
heved that, with suitable cultivation, he might attain 
to distinction in professional life. He was unwilling 
to enjoy the benefits of a public education alone. 
He earnestly desired that the same boon might be 
conferred upon his brother, and he resolved that it 
should be, if any influence of his could effect it. 
He determined to make the effort by introducing 

199 



200 A NOBLE MOTHER. 

the matter first to Ezekiel and tlien to his father. 
When spending the vacations at liome, he and his 
brother were accustomed to sleep together. One 
night, after they had retired to rest, Daniel opened 
the matter to his brother, and they conversed freely 
upon it. " Daniel utterly refused to enjoy the fruit 
of his brother's labor any longer. They were united 
in sympatliy and affection, and they must be united 
in their pursuits. But how could they leave their 
beloved parents, in age and solitude, with no pro- 
tector ? Tiiey talked and wept, and wept and 
talked, till dawn of day. They dared not broach 
the matter to their father. Finally Daniel resolved 
to be the orator upon the occasion. .Tudge Webster 
was then somewhat burdened with debts. He was 
advanced in age, and had set his heart upon hav- 
ing Ezekiel as his helper. The very thought of 
separation from both his sons was painful to him. 
When the proposition was made, he felt as did the 
patriarch of old, when he exclaimed, ' .Joseph is not, 
and will ye also take Benjamin away ? * 
A family council was called. The mother's opinion 
was asked. She was a strong-minded woman. She 
was not blind to the superior endowments of her 
sons. With all a mother's partiality, however, she 
did not over-estinate their powers. She decided the 
matter at once. Her reply was, ' I have lived long 
in the world, and have been happy in my children. 



AFFECTIONATE BROTHERS. 201 

If Daniel and Ezekiel will promise to take care of 
me in my old age, I will consent to the sale of all our 
property at once, and they may enjoy the benefit of 
that which remains after our debts are paid.'' This 
was a moment of intense interest to all the parties. 
Parents and children all mingled their tears together, 
and sobbed aloud, at the thought of separation. The 
father yielded to the entreaties of the sons and the 
advice of his wife. Daniel returned t« college, and 
Ezekiel took his little bundle in his band, and sought 
on foot the scene of his pr(§paratory studies. In one 
year he joined his yourt^^ "brother in college." * 

All honor to that self-denying, noble mother, who, 
for the intellectual improvement of her children, 
would have consented to the sale of all the property, 
and who " decided the matter at once." Let her 
character ever be held in grateful remembrance. 
With such mothers, our country will never want for 
able statesmen. How affecting, too, is the scene of 
that night's interview between those two brothers, 
talking and weeping about their difficulties and pros- 
pects till the dawn of day — the, younger laboring 
to persuade the elder to relinquish the tilling of the 
land, in order to cultivate his own mind, and the 
elder dwelling upon the obstructions in the way, 
only, however, to hear a method suggested by Dan- 
iel, by which those impediments might be removed ! 

* Lj'man's Memorial. 



202 THE HIGHEST COMMENDATION. 

This attachment between these two brothers con- 
tinued througli life. Ezekiel being the elder, the 
other was accustomed to cherish great respect for 
his opinions. Daniel seems to have regarded the 
approbation of Ezekiel as a higher commendation 
than the praises of the multitude. After his splendid 
reply to Hayne, in the United States Senate, and 
when no language was strong enough to give full 
expression to 'the admiration which it had awakened 
throughout the land, he was heard to say, " How I 
wish that my poor brother had lived till after this 
speech, that I might knmv' if he would have been 
gratified ! " He, on whose lips a vast multitude had 
hunir with delio^ht, — who had astonished the greatest 
minds in the nation by his wonderful versatility of 
talent, in which satire, pathos, logical power, keen 
analysis, and beauty of rhetoric, were all combined, 
and by means of which an ingenious and graceful 
competitor was effectually overthrown, in one of the 
most powerful intellectual contests that this or any 
other country has ever witnessed, and whilst the 
victor's enthusiastic praises were on every tongue, — 
his heart was modestly going forth towards his 
brother, as if his satisfaction could not be com- 
plete without that brother's commendation ! 

Ai.d where, in the history of political literature, 
is there a more affecting tribute of fraternal love, 
than iii the following dedication of the first volume 
of his s}-'?cchcs * — 



FRATERNAL TRIBUTE. 203 

" To my Nieces, Mrs. Alice Bridge Whipple, and 
Mrs. Mary Ann Sanborn. 

" Many of the speeches contained in this volume 
were delivered and printed in the lifetime of your 
father, whose fraternal affection led him to speak 
of them with approbation. 

" His death, which happened when he had only 
just passed the middle period of life, left you with- 
out a father, and me without a brother. 

" I dedicate this volume to you, not only for the 
love I have for yourselves, but also as a tribute of 
affection to his memory, and from a desire that the 
name of my brother, Ezekiel Webster, may be asso- 
ciated with mine, so long as any thing written or 
spoken by me shall be regarded or read. 

"Danl. Webster." 

As in early life he resolved that his brother should 
share the benefits of education with him, so in the 
zenith of his glory he desired to make him a par- 
ticipant of his honors, by indissolubly associating 
their names together. 

The following characteristic letter of Mr. Web- 
ster, written May 3, 1846, at Franklin, New Hamp- 
shire, cjontains some allusion, not only to his brother, 
but to other members of his family, which are beau- 
tifully illustrative of his affectionate domestic attach- 
ments : — 



204 INTERESTING LETTER. 

" Sunday, 1 o'clock. 
" My dear Sir : 

• •••••• 

*' I have made satisfactory arrangements respect- 
ing the house, the best of which is, that I find I can 
leave it where it is, (that is, the main house,) and 
yet be comfortable, notwithstanding the railroad. 
This saves a great deal of expense. 

• •••••• 

" This house faces due north. Its front windows 
look towards the River Merrimack. But then the 
river soon turns to the south, so that the eastern 
windows look towards the river also. But the river 
has so deepened its channel in this stretch of it, in 
the last fifty years, that we cannot see its water 
without approaching it, or going back to the higher 
lands behind us. The history of this change is of 
considerable importance in the philosophy of streams. 
I have observed it practically, and know something | 

of the theory of the phenomenon ; but I doubt 
whether the world will ever be benefited either by 
my learning or my observation in this respect. 
Looking out at the east windows, at this moment, 
(2 P. M.,) with a beautiful sun just breaking out, ^ 
my eye sweeps a rich and level field of one hundred 
acres. At the end of it, a third of a mile off, I see 
plain marble gravestones, designating the places 
where repose my father, my mother, my brother 



INTERESTING LETTER. 205 

Joseph, and my sisters Mehetabel, Abigail, and Sa- 
rah, good and Scripture names, inherited from their 
Puritan ancestors. 

"My father, Ebenezer Webster, born at Kings- 
ton, in the lower part of the state, in 1739, was 
the handsomest man 1 ever saw, except my brother 
Ezekiel, who appeared to me — and so does he now 
seem to me — the very finest human form that ever 
I laid eyes on. I saw him in his coffin — a white 
forehead, a tinged cheek, a complexion as clear as 
heavenly light. But where am I straying? The 
grave has closed upon him, as it has on all my 
brothers and sisters. We shall soon be all together. 
But this is melancholy, and I leave it. Dear, dear 
kindred blood, how I love you all ! 

" This fair field is before me. I could see a lamb 
on any part of it. I have ploughed it, and raked it, 
and hoed it ; but I never mowed it. Somehow, I 
could never learn to hang a scythe. I had not wit 
enough. My brother Joe used to say that my father 
sent me to college in order to make me equal to the 
rest of the children ! 

"Of a hot day in .Tuly — it must have been in 
one of the last years of Washington's administra- 
tion — I was making hay, with my father, just where 
I now see a remaining elm tree. About the middle 
of the afternoon, the Honorable Abiel Foster, M. C, 
who lived in Canterbury, six miles off, called at the 



206 EARLY RECOLLECTIONS. 

house, and came into the field to see my father. 
He was a worthy man, college learned, and had 
been a minister, hut was not fi person of any con- 
siderable natural power. My father was his friend 
and supporter. He talked a while in the field, and 
went on his way. When he was gone, my father 
called me to him, and we sat down beneath the elm, 
on a haycock. He said, ' My son, that is a worthy 
man. He is a member of Congress. He goes to 
Philadelphia, and gets six dollars a day, while I toil 
here. It is because he had an education, which I 
never had. If I had had his early education, I 
should have been in Philadelphia in his place. 
I came near it as it was. But I missed it, and now 
I must work here.' ' My dear father,' said I, ' you 
shall not work. Brother and I will work for you, 
and wear our hands out, and you shall rest.' And I 
remember to have cried, and I cry now at the recol- 
lection. ' My child,' said he, » it is of no importance 
to me ; I now live but for my children. I could not 
give your elder brother the advantages of knowl- 
edge, but I can do something for you. Exert your- 
self; improve your opportunities; learn, learn: 
and when I am gone, you will not need to gc 
through the hardships which I have undergone, and 
which have made me an old man before my time.' 

" The next May he took me to Exeter, to the 
Phillips Exeter Academy, placed me under the 



FILIAL LOVE. 207 

tuition of its excellent preceptor, Dr. Benjamin Ab- 
bott, still living*, and from tliat time . 

" My father died in April, 1806. I neither left 
him nor forsook him. My opening an office at Bos- 
cawen was that I might be near him. I closed his 
eyes in this very house. He died at sixty-seven 
years of age, after a life of exertion, toil, and ex- 
posure — a private soldier, an officer, a legislator, a 
judge, every thing that a man could be to whom 
Learning never had disclosed her ' ample page.' 
My first speech at the bar was made when he was 
on the bench. He never heard me a second time. 
He had in him what I collect to have been the char- 
acter of some of the old Puritans. He was deeply 
religious, but not sour ; on the contrary, good hu- 
mored, facetious ; sharing, even in his age, with a 
contagious laugh ; teeth all as white as alabaster ; 
gentle, soft, playful ; and yet having a heart in him 
that he seemed to have borrowed from a lion. He 
could frown, — a frown it was, — but cheerfulness, 
good humor, and smiles composed his most usual 
aspect. 

" Ever 'truly yours, &c., 

" Daniel Webster." 

How touching is the allusion to Ezekiel ! " a 
white forehead, a tinged cheek, a complexion clear 
as heaven's light. The grave has closed upon him 



208 TOUCHING ALLUSIONS. 

as it has upon all my brothers and sisters. We shall 
soon all be together. Dear, dear kindred bloody hmo 
/ loved you all ! " 

And then his reference to his father : " My father 
died. I neither left him nor forsook him. / closed ^ 
his cyes.^'' 

During the presidential campaign of 1840, the 
opponents of General Harrison sneered at him be- 
cause he was born in a log cabin. This gave occa- 
sion for the following outburst of moving eloquence 
from Mr. Webster, in which 'there are other af- 
fectinsr allusions to his father. 

" Gentlemen, it did not happen to me to be born 
in a log cabin ; but my elder brothers and sisters 
were born in a log cabin, raised amid the snowdrifts 
of New Hampshire, at a period so early as that, 
when the smoke first rose from its rude chimney, 
and curled over the frozen hills, there was no simi- 
lar evidence of a white man's habitation between it 
and the settlements on the rivers of Canada. Its 
remains still exist. I make to it an annual visit. I 
carry my children to it, to teach them the hardships 
endured by the generations which liave gone before 
them. I love to dwell on the tender recollections, 
the kindred ties, the early affections, and the touch- 
ing narrations and incidents, which mingle with all 
I know of this primitive family abode. I weep 
to think that none of those who inhabited it are now 



i 



DEDICATIONS. 209 

among the living ; and if ever I am ashamed of it, 
or if I ever fail in aifectionate veneration for HIM 
who raised it and defended it against savage violence 
and destruction, cherished all the domestic virtues be- 
neath its roof, and through the fire and blood of a 
seven years' revolutionarj war, shrunk from no dan- 
ger, no toil, no sacrifice to serve his country, and to 
raise his children to a condition better than his own, 
may my name, and the name of my posterity, be 
blotted forever from the memory of mankind." 

The same delicate sensibility was evinced by Mr. 
Webster in the dedications of the last five volumes 
of his works. It is appropriate, therefore, that they 
be inserted here as illustrative of an interestino' fea- 
ture of his character. 

Second Volume. 

" To Isaac P. Davis, Esq. 

'< My dear Sir : A warm private friendship has 

subsisted between us for half our lives, interrupted 

by no untoward occurrence, and never for a moment 

cooling into indiiference. Of this friendship, the 

source of so much happiness to me, I wish to leave, 

if not an enduring memorial, at least an affectionate 

and grateful acknowledgment. I inscribe this 

volume to you. 

" Daniel Webster." 
14 



210 DEDICATIONS. 

Third Volume. 
*' To Mrs. Caroline Le Roy Webster. 

" My dearly-beloved Wife : I cannot allow these 
volumes to go to the press without containing a 
tribute of my affection, and some acknowledgment 
of the deep interest that you have felt in the pro- 
ductions which they contain. You have witnessed 
the origin of most of them, not with less concern, 
certainly, than has been felt by their author ; 
and the degree of favor with which they may now 
be received by the pul)lic will be as earnestly re- 
garded, I am sure, by you as by myself. The op- 
portunity seems also a fit one for expressing the high 
and warm regard which I ever entertained for your 
.honored father, now deceased, and the respect and 
esteem which I cherish towards the members of that 
amiable and excellent family to which you belong. 

" Daniel Webster," . 

Four til Volume, 

»' To Fletcher Webster, Esq. 

" My dear Sir : I dedicate one of the volumes 
of these speeches to the memory of your deceased 
brother and sister, and I am devoutly thankful tjiat 
I am able to inscribe another volume to you, my 
only surviving child, and the -object of my affection 
and hopes. You have been of an age, at the 
appearance of most of these speeches and writings, 



DEDICATIONS. 211 

at which you were able to read and understand 
them ; and in the preparation of some of them you 
have taken no unimportant part. Among the diplo- 
matic papers, there are several written by yourself 
wholly or mainly, at the time when official and con- 
fidential connections subsisted between us in the de- 
partment of state. The principles and opinions 
expressed in these productions are such as I believe 
to be essential to the preservation of the Union, the 
maintenance of the Constitution, and the advance- 
ment of the country to still higher stages of pros- 
perity and renown. These objects have constituted 
my pqlestar during the whole of my political life, 
which has now extended through more than half the 
period of the existence of the government. And I 
know, my dear son, that neitiier parental authority 
nor parental example is necessary to induce you, in 
whatever capacity, public or private, you may be 
called to act, to devote yourself to the accomplish- 
ment of the same ends. 

"Your affectionate Father." 

Fifth Volume, 
"To J. W. Paige, Esq. 

"My dear Sir : The friendship which has subsisted 
so long between us, springs not more from our close 
family connections than from similarity of opinions 
and sentiments. I count it among the advantages 



212 DEDICATIONS. 

and pleasu;es of my life, and pray you to allow me 
as a slight, but grateful token of my estimate of it, 
to dedicate to you tliis volume of my speeches. 

" Daniel Webster." 

Sixth Volume. 
"With the warmest parental aftection, mingled with 
afflicted feelings, I dedicate this the last volume of 
my works to the memory of my deceased children, 
.Tulia Webster Apjdeton, beloved in all the relations 
of daughter, wife, mother, sister, and friend ; and 
Major Edward Webster, who died in Mexico, in the 
military service of the United States, with unblem- 
ished honor and reputation, and who entered the 
service solely from a desire to be useful to his coun- 
try, and do honor to the state in which he was born. 

" ' Go, g-enlle spirits, to your destined rest 5. 
While I — reversed our nature's kindlier doom, 
Pour forth a father's sorrow on your tomb.' 

" Daniel Webster." 

Over Mr. Webster's farm at Marshfield are scat- 
tered numerous trees, many of which have a history 
that associates them directly with the owner of the 
estate ; among these are two small elms, which 
stand immediately in front of the mansion. They 
were planted there for a special purpose, under the 
following circumstances : one day, after Mr. Web- 
ster had been absent from the house for some 



i 



MEMENTOES. 213 

time, he was seen returning with two small 
trees, and the shovel with which he had removed 
them. Cahing for his son, Fletcher, he conducted 
him to the front of the house, and, after digging 
the holes and plantiag the trees without assist- 
ance, he turned to his son, and said, in a subdued 
tone of voice, '"> My son, protect these trees after I 
am gone ; let them ever remind you of Julia and Ed- 
ward.'''' In the presence of his only surviving child 
he planted those trees, as living monuments to the 
memory of the two who had departed. 

Step, now, into the house, and, amongst the many 
objects of interest which will there be seen is a 
small profile cut in black, elegantly framed, with a 
single line in Mr. Webster's own writing: — 

" My excellent Mother. 

" D. W." 

We venture the prediction that that modest pro- 
file will awaken in the breasts of the Marshfield vis- 
itors far deeper and tenderer emotions than many 
of the more costly and showy articles which may 
there be seen. 

In one of his letters to that " true man," John 
Taylor, who had charge of Elms Farm, he gave 
him a strict charge to take care of his mother's gar- 
den, though it required tlie labor of one man. 

Mr. Webste^ provided, in Marshfield, and not far 



214 THE FAMILY CEMETERY. 

from his residence, a family cemetery. It is upon 
the summit of a hill, from which may be seen, on 
one side, a wide extent of country, embracing, 
amongst other interesting objects, the site of the 
old church, — the first ever erected in the town, — 
and the ocean, rolling its blue waves in ceaseless 
sublimity to the shore. 

On one of his last visits to this sacred spot, he 
was accompanied by ]Mr. Lanman. They approached 
the place in silent reverence, and, whilst standing 
there, Mr. Webster, pointing to the tomb and the 
enclosed green spot, said, in a deliberate and im- 
pressive manner, — 

" This will be my home ; and here three monu- 
ments will soo'n be erected — one for the mother of 
my children, one each for Julia and Edward, and 
there will be plenty of room in front for the little 
ones that must follow them." 

These were the only words he uttered. They 
were enouiih to indicate the current of his thouohts 
and feelings. He was thinking, with tender interest, 
of the dead and of the living, — of those who had 
gone, and of those who were to follow, -^- not for- 
getting himself. <' This will be my home." Alas ! 
how soon was this verified ! The monuments to 
which he referred are now there. They are simple 
columns, with granite bases and marble caps, con- 
taining the following inscriptions : — 



MONUMENTAL INSCRIPTIONS. 215 

'♦eSrace ^2lJcbster, 

Wife of Daniel Webster : 

Born January 16, 1781 ; 

Died January 21, 1828. 

Blessed are the pure in heart, for they shall see God." 



♦'Sulfa SSIeister, ■ 

Wife of 

Samuel Appleton Appleton : 

Born January 16, 1818 j 

Died April 18, 1848. 

Let me go, for the day breaketh." 

"I^afor fStitoavtr ^WzhnXtx'. 

Born July 28, 1820; 

Died at San Angel, in Mexico, 

In the military service of his country, 

January 23, 1848. 

A dearly beloved son and brother.^* 

Over the door of the tomb is a plain marble slab, 

on which is inscribed, in bold, deep letters, the 

name of 

'* Daniel Webster." 

We see, from the above facts, that intellectual 
greatness is in perfect harmony with delicate sensi- 
bility. A man may, at one time, hold a nation spell- 
bound by his eloquence, or in senates, or with for- 
eign ambassadors, be discussing, in the profoundest 
manner, the most intricate questions of international 



216 " THE MEMORY OF THE HEART." 

law, and at another time may be giving exercise, in 
the most delicate manner, to tlie tenderest sentiments 
of affection. There is nothing unmanly in the 
strongest attachment, even though it finds its ex- 
pression in a tear. 

When Mr. Webster was in England, he wrote the 
following lines, in which he doubtless refers to h^a 
own experience of 

"THE MEMORY OF THE HEART. 

" If stores of dry and learned lore we gain, 
We keep (hem in the memory of the brain ; 
Names, things, and facts — whate'er we knowledge call, 
There is the common leger for them all ; 
And images on this cold surface traced 
Make slight impressions, and are soon effaced. 

" But we've a page more glowing and more bright, 
On which our friendship and our love to write ; 
That these may never from the soul depart. 
We trust them to the memory of the heart. 
There is no dimming — no etiacement here ; 
Each new pulsation keeps the record clear ; 
Warm, golden letters all the tablet fill, 
Nor lose their lustre till the heart stands still. 

" LowDow, November 19, 1839." 



CHAPTER XII. 

Mr. Webster's Mirthfulness. — A playful Letter. — Mr. Choate's 
Pathos. — Webster's practical Joke. — Mr. Choate's poor Writ- 
ing. — Eflect of the Joke. — Mr. Webster's Trout Law. — 
« That ain't the Voorst of it." —Amusing Contrast. — The Sen- 
ate interrupted. — Webster and the Buckeyes. — "Old Web- 
ster" and the sporting Snobs. — Appearances deceptive. — 
Webster's Wit. — Amusing Reply. — " Venerable " Trout. — 
Effect of Cheerfulness. — Webster's Spelling Book. 

To see Mr. Webster in some grave debate, or 
when pleading an important case before a jury, an 
individual might infer, from the dignity and serious- 
ness of his manner, that cheerfulness was not an 
element of his nattire. Nothing could be farther 
from the truth. Among the strata which entered 
into the composition of his character was a vein of 
mirthfulness, that ofttiines cropped out above the sur- 
face of his habitual gravity, revealing the rich stores 
that were concealed beneath. Sometimes this play- 
ful humor was mingled with his professional duties. 
It is conspicuous in the first part of his great reply 
to Hayne. 

On one occasion he conducted a case in Boston, 
before the Circuit Court, having reference to the 
violation of some patent for a wheel. Whilst the 

217 



218 Webster's mirthfulness. 

case was in progress, he wrote the following letter 
to a friend, who says of it, " The letter is not, of 
course, written for the public eye ; but I have per- 
mission to use it, and make extracts from it. You 
will see, from its half serious and half ironical char- 
acter, how playful he can be, even while sitting at 
the bar, waiting for his turn to be heard in a cause. 
He speaks of himself in it as he supposes others 
will speak of him. To show you that he is not al- 
ways cold and unbending, I will give you an extract 
from the letter." The following is the extract : — 

«« Boston, Jan. 15, '49 — Monday, 12 o'clock, 
In C. Court, United States. 

" Marcy vs. Sizer being on trial, and Tabcro dicente in longuin ,* 
and another snow storm appearing to be on the wing. 

" My dear Sir : We are in court yet, and so 
shall be some days longer. We have the evidence 
in, and a discussion on the law, preliminary to our 
summing up, is now going on. I think it will con- 
sume the remainder of this day, if it lasts no longer. 
Mr. Choate will speak to-morrow, and I close im- 
mediately after. 

" I am afraid my luck is always bad, and I fear 
is always to be so." . . . Here Mr. Webster 
gpeaks of what he expects, and about which he fears 
he may be disappointed, and the consequences of 
it. He then goes on to say, — 

* Taber making a long plea. 



A HUMOROUS LETTER. 219 

" It will be said, or may be said, hereafter, Mr. 
Webster was a laborious man in his profession and 
other pursuits. He never tasted of the bread of 
idleness. His profession yielded him, at some times, 
large amounts of income ; but he seems never to 
have aimed at accumulation, and perhaps was not 
justly sensible of the importance and duty of preser- 
vation. Riches were never before his eyes as a lead- 
ing object of regard. When young and poor, he 
was more earnest in struggling for eminence than 
in efforts for making money ; and in after life, rep- 
utation, public regard, and usefulness in high pur- 
suits, mainly engrossed his attention. He always 
said, also, that he was never destined to be rich ; 
that no such star presided over his birth ; that he 
never obtained any thing by any attempts or efforts 
out of the line of his profession ; that his friends, 
on several occasions, induced him to take an inter- 
est in business operations ; that, as often as he did 
so, loss resulted, till he used to say, when spoken to 
on such subjects, ' Gentlemen, if you have any pro- 
jects for money-making, I pray you keep me out of 
them ; my singular destiny mars every thing of that 
sort, and would be sure to overwhelm your own 
better fortunes.' " After this he says, — 

" Mr. Webster was the author of that short biog- 
raphy of most good lawyers, which has been ascribed 
to other sources, viz., that they ' lived well-, worked 
hard, and died poor.^ " 



220 Webster's poetry. 

And in the same letter he tells the following an- 
ecdote of himself: — 

Sitting one day at the bar in Portsmouth, with an 
elderly member of the bar, his friend, who enjoyed 
with sufficient indulgence that part of a lawyer's lot 
which consists " in living well," Mr. Webster made 
an epitaph, which would not be unsuitable : — 

" Natus consumere fruges 5 
Frugibus consumplis, 
Hie jacet 
R. C. S."* 

At the close of the letter, he added the following 
postscript, relative to the case on trial : — 

" Half past 2 o'clock — Cessat Taber ; Choate se- 
quituj', in questione juris, crastino die. t • 

" Taber is learned, sharp and dry ; 
Choate full of fancy, soaring high ; 
Both lawyers of the best report, 
True to their clients and the court j 
What sorrow doth a Christian feel, 
Both should be ' broken on a wheel ! ' " 

The same gentleman says, " I have many letters 
like this, and I have always found him, throughout 
all my travelling, sojourning, and sports with him, 
one of the most agreeable men, one of the most 
amiable and playful I ever met with. No one has 

* Being born to eat fruit ; and having consumed all, here lies 
Ivi C S. 

t Taber ceases ; Choate follows, on the question of equity, to- 
morrow. 



WEBSTER AND CHOATE. ^l 

known him more intimately, or has seen him oftencr, 
under everj variety of circumstances, for fifteen 
years." 

We were in the Circuit Court in Boston on a simi- 
lar, perhaps on the very same occasion, when he 
and Mr. Choate were pitted against each other in a 
case in which the violation of a patent for the pro- 
tection of a new kind of wheel for rail cars was the 
question at issue. Mr. Choate, after pleading nearly 
three days, closed with a very pathetic appeal to the 
sympathies of the jury in behalf of his client. He 
beotred them to consider the condition of his client, 
and the effect which would be produced upon him 
and his family if their verdict was against him. The 
peroration produced a decided impression. 

Mr. Webster was to follow immediately. It was 
his first object to dispel the effect of Mr. Choate's 
closing appeal. This he did most effectually by a 
practical joke, which produced a sensation of hilari- 
ty throughout the whole court room. To appre- 
ciate its point, it should be known that a short time 
prior to this trial, Mr. Choate had been invited to 
give an address on some public occasion in a distant 
town. When his reply reached the committee from 
whom he had received the invitation, such was the 
peculiarity of the chirography, or so badly was the 
reply written, that none of them could read it. 
They were obhged to send for some one well skilled 



222 choate's handwriting. 

in deciphering difficult penmanship to translate the 
document. This anecdote was at that very time 
going the rounds of the papers. It had been read 
by many, if not by all, in the court room. After Mr. 
Choate had finished his plea, and had gone away 
from the table, where he had left his brief ^ or outline 
of argument, which was written on a number of 
loose sheets of paper, Mr. Webster, after a moment's 
whisper with his distinguished opponent, took up 
these loose sheets, and turning to the spectators, said, 
in a very gentlemanly manner, " Ladies, would you 
like to see a specimen of Mr. Choate's writing ? " 
and then with his own hands distributed them among 
the audience. This ingenious ruse was successful. 
The general burst of laughter, and the universal rush 
and scrambling after Mr. Choate's hieroglyphics, 
which were flying like mammoth snow flakes about 
the room, effectually dispelled the tender, sympathet- 
ic emotions which had been awakened by the mov- 
ing peroration of his plea. The mirthfulness did 
not immediately subside. As each individual who 
obtained a piece of the mysterious paper looked upon 
it, his countenance was immediately wreathed in 
smiles. We were successful in obtaining a sheet, 
and, tearing it in two, gave half of it to a lady, who 
seemed to be as anxious for an autograph as our- 
selves. Upon casting our eye upon it, we had no 
difficulty in discovering the cause of the pleasantry 



MR. Webster's practical joke. 223 

which all seemed to experience. True, there were 
on the paper plenty of lines, curves and angles ; but 
how to put them together so as to make out a single 
sentence we found impossible. We no longer won- 
dered at the continued tittering of the audience. 

While his brief was flying around among the au- 
dience, Mr. Choate was standing by the stove, with 
his back to the spectators. A friend stepped up to 
him, and, we presume, told him what was going on. 
He looked around, and when he saw how the audi- 
ence were employed, he stroked his chin, smiled, 
and turned again towards the stove, apparently en- 
joying the joke as highly as any. 

As another specimen of Mr Webster's pleasantry, 
we refer to a passage in a speech which he gave at 
Syracuse : — 

" It has so happened that all the public services 
which I have rendered to the world, in my day and 
generation, have been connected with the general gov- 
ernment. I think I ought to make an exception. I 
was ten days a member of the Massachusetts legisla- 
ature, [laughter,] and I turned my thoughts to the 
search of some good object in which I could be useful 
in that position ; and after much reflection, I intro- 
duced a bill, which, with the general consent of both 
houses of the Massachusetts legislature, passed into 
a law, and is now a law of the state, which enacts 
that no man in the state shall catch trout in any 



221 MR. Webster's pleasantry. 

otlier manner than in the old way, with an ordinary 
hook and line. [Great laughter.] With that ex- 
ception, I never was connected for an hour witli any 
state government in my life. I never held office, 
high or low, under any state government. Perhaps 
that was my misfortune. 

" At the age of thirty, I was in New Hampshire, 
practising law, and had some clients. John Taylor 
Gil man, who for fourteen years was governor of the 
state, thought that, a young man as I was, I might 
be fit to be an attorney general of the State of New 
Hampshire, and he nominated me to the council ; 
and the council taking it into their deep considera- 
tion, and not happening to be of the same politics 
as the governor and myself, voted, three out of five, 
that I was not competent ; and very likely they Avere 
right. [Laughter.] So you see, gentlemen, I never 
gained promotion in any state government." 

The New York Daily Times relates the following, 
which is a kind of practical joke upon Mr. Webster 
himself : — 

" Some years ago he started off from Marshfield | 

on a trouting expedition to Sandwich, a neighbor- t 

ing town on Cape Cod. On approaching a fine 
stream, he alighted from his wagon ; and just then 
he met the owner of the farm, whose stream ran 
through it. ' Good morning,' says Webster ; ' is 
there any trout here ? ' ' Well,' says the farmer, 



THE JOKER JOKED. 225 

* some people fish here, but I don't know what they 
do get.' ' I'll throw my line in,' says Webster, 

* and see what there is.' 

« Webster walked the banks of the stream, trying 
his luck, and the old farmer followed him. Soon 
Webster remarked, ' You have some bog on your 
farm.' ' Yes,' says the farmer ; ' that ain't the worst 
of it.' Fishing still farther along, Webster says, 
' You seem to have plenty of mosquitoes here.' 

* Yes,' he replied, ' that ain't the worst of it.' Web- 
ster still kept on throwing his line into the deep 
pools, and then said, ' You have plenty of briers 
here.' ' Yes,' says the farmer, ' and that ain't the 
worst of it.' Mr. Webster, getting somewhat dis- 
couraged, in a hot August day, bitten by mosquitoes, 
scratched by briers, and not raising a single fish, 
dropped his rod, and said, ' he didn't beUeve there 
was any trout here.' ' And that ain't the worst of 
it,' says the farmer. ' Well,' says Mr. Webster, 
*I would like to know what the worst of it is.^ 

* Tlure never was any here I ' says the farmer. Mr. 
Webster enjoyed the joke, and often told it to his 
particular friends." 

In 1841, when he was secretary of state, he came 
home from the department, where he had been en- 
gaged in official interviews with foreign ministers, 
and taking from his parlor a small basket, very ele- 
gantly ornamented, he immediately left the house. 
15 



226 MR. WEBSTER BUYING EGGS. 

After an absence of half an hour, he returned, and 
handed' Mrs. Webster the same basket, but with its 
weight greatly increased. Imagine her surprise, 
when, as she looked in, she found it filled with 
hens' eggs. Feeling, perhaps, a little mortified 
that her distinguished companion should descend to 
so inappropriate an employment, she inquired the 
reason of his conduct. Her husband replied, that 
he had been " all the morning discussing with the 
diplomatic corps the affairs of some half dozen of 
the principal kingdoms of the world, and, as he was 
fond of seeing both ends meet, he only wished to 
realize how it would seem for him, a secretary of 
state, to turn from such imposing business to the 
opposite extreme, of purchasing, within the same 
hour, a basket of newly-laid eggs." 

On one occasion, many years ago, when Mr. Web- 
ster was in the Senate, just as he arose to speak, a 
ministerial-looking stranger in the gallery suddenly 
cried out, so as to be heard by the whole Senate, 
" My friends, the country is on the brink of destruc- 
tion ; be sure that you act on correct principles. I 
warn you to act as your consciences may approve. 
God is looking down upon you, and if you act upon 
correct principles, you will get safely through." 
Havii:;!; thus discharged what he probably regarded 
as a responsible duty, he stepped back, and quietly 
disap])eared, without giving the officers time to seize 



HIS SKILL IN RIFLE SHOOTING. 227 

him. Of course such an unlooked-for interruption 
threw the Senate into confusion. Some laughed, 
some conversed jestingly with each other, some left 
their seats, and several minutes elapsed before the 
chairman succeeded in restoring order. During all 
the excitement Mr. Webster retained his standing 
posture, ready to commence so soon as the oppor- 
tunity should be presented. The favorable moment 
having arrived, the first sentence he uttered was 
this : ^^ As the gentleman in the gallery has concluded^ 
I will proceed with my remarks^ How much better 
was this pleasantry than though he had indulged in 
an outburst of passion at the disturbance, and in- 
sisted that the gallery should be cleared of spec- 
tators ! 

Mr. Webster was good at a rifle shot, as well as 
with hook and fly. When travelling through the 
State of Ohio, a number of years ago, in company 
with a friend, he came upon a party of Buckeye 
farmers, who were testing their skill in the use of 
the gun, by firing at a target for turkeys. Having 
reined in his horses, for the purpose of enjoying the 
sport as a spectator, he was invited by the free-and- 
easy marksmen to try his skill. He was not unwill- 
ing to comply. It was an amusement with which 
he was familiar. After examining several rifles, in 
a manner which evinced his acquaintance with the 
instrument, he selected one of the best, and, with 



228 HIS DINNER WITH THE BUCKEYES. 

the motley group of rough-looking western farmers 
standing around him, he raised the weapon to his 
eye, and in a moment sent a ball directly t^irough 
the centre of the target. He was acknowledged a 
good shot, and had one of the finest turkeys in the 
flock presented to him. Then the questions went 
round, " Who is this ? Where's he from ? What's 
his business ? Where is he going ? " But no sat- 
isfaction could they obtain. They finally invited 
him to dine with them at an inn near by. He con- 
sented. Their curiosity being highly excited to 
learn who this skilful marksman was, his friend took 
the liberty of introducing him at the dinner as the 
Hon. Daniel Webster, member of Congress. Great 
was their pleasurable astonishment to learn that their 
stranger guest was the distinguished individual who 
had recently delivered a famous speech in Congress, 
of which they had heard, and some of them had 
read. As he had discoursed so effectively from the 
rifle's mouth, they wanted to hear some words of 
eloquence fall from his own. He was, therefore, 
called out J — perhaps by one of the party giving a 
toast in his honor. In responding to the call, he 
addressed to them a few appropriate remarks, and 
then proceeded on his journey. They earnestly en- 
deavored to induce him to fire another rifle ; but he 
was too wise to incur the liability of losing their 
good opinion of his skill by attempting a second 







WEBSTER AXI> THE BUCKEYES. 



HIS ADVENTURE WITH THE SNOBS. 



•229 



u crack shot." Not only did he put a ball through 
the centre of the target, but succeeded in making 
so favorable an impression upon their hearts, that 
some of them accompanied him twenty miles on his 

journey. 

This incog, character was the occasion of another 
adventure, but of a somewhat different nature. 
When in company, Mr. Webster always dressed 
like a gentleman ; but when on his farm, or on a 
fishing or crunning excursion, his costume was char- 
acterized for its appropriateness. He could be mis- 
taken for no other character than the one he had 
assumed. In his gunning or fishing toggery, no 
stranger would suspect him of being any thing more 
than he seemed. On one occasion he was out after 
wild ducks, in company with his man, Seth Peter- 
son, when they fell in with " a couple of Boston 
sporting snobs," who were in difficulty because there 
was a bog in the way, which they could not cross 
without getting wet. Judging of Mr. Webster from 
bis costume, they supposed him to be one of the 
rustic farmers of Marshfield, and therefore asked 
him to carry them on his back to a dry point on the 
other side of the bog. Without revealing himself 
to them, Mr. Webster consented. After he had 
complied with their request, and had received from 
each of them a quarter of a dolhir for the job, they 
inquired, in a flippant, familiar manner, » Is old 



230 DECEPTIVE APPEARANCES. 

Webster at home 1 We've had such miserable luck 
in shooting, that we should like to honor him with 
a call." To this question, expressed in such an un- 
dignified manner, Mr. Webster calmly replied, " that 
the gentleman alluded to was not at home just then, 
but would be as soon as he could walk to the house, 
and he would be glad to see them at dinner." 

What reply these sporting gentlemen made to this 
rebuke is not recorded, but evidence is furnished 
that they did not dine with " old Webster " that 
day. 

Young men should be careful not to form an 
opinion of others from their external appearance. 
A noble character is ofttimes concealed under an 
unfashionable costume. It is especially dangerous, 
in country places, to infer the social standing of a 
stranger from the garb in which he appears. The 
employment of a farmer forbids the wearing of fine 
broadcloth, French satin, and polished calfskin, when 
engaged in his daily occupation. And if, because 
the fabric of his garments is coarse, and their sur- 
face soiled, any one should infer that poverty of 
purse, feebleness of intellect, and a low social posi- 
tion were among his possessions, and should treat 
liim accordingly, he would incur the liability of 
making a discovery which would very justly over- 
whelm him with mortification. The wisest course 
is, to treat every man, whatever may be his appear- 



YOUNG Webster's wit. 231 

ance, as a gentleman, until we learn his forfeiture 
of that character. 

The natural humor of Mr. Webster, of which we 
have given several illustrations, manifested itself in 
earlj childhood. On one occasion, when he and his 
brother Ezekiel were boys, after they had gone to 
bed, they got into a controversy about some passage 
in the Columbian Orator, a famous school book of 
that day ; they left their pillows, and began some 
researches in order to settle the dispute ; in so doing 
they managed to set their bedclothes on fire, and 
narrowly escaped consuming the house. When 
asked, the next morning, how the accident was 
caused, Daniel replied, " We loere in pursuit of light, 
hut got more than we wanted.''^ 

At another time their father gave them a certain 
piece of work to perform during his absence from 
the house ; but finding, upon his return, that the 
task was unperformed, he questioned the boys with 
some degree of sternness concerning their employ- 
ment : — 

",What have you been doing, Ezekiel ] "^ 

" Nothing, sir," was his answer. 

" Well, Daniel, what have you been doing ? " 

" Helping ZcJcc, s?V." 

How much help " Zeke " required to do nothing, 
we are not informed. 

The same native humor peeps out in the reply he 



232 THE VENERABLE TROUT, . 

gave to a friend wlio asked liim what he intended 
to speak about in his historical address, in New 
York, on the next day. 

" I am going," said he, " to be excessively learned 
and classical, and shall talk much about the older 
citizens of Greece. When I make my appearance 
in Broadway to-morrow, people will accost me thus : 
» Good morning, Mr. Webster. Recently from 
Greece, I understand. How did you leave Mr. 
Pericles and Mr. Aristophanes ? ' " 

The address alluded to in this playful manner 
was one of rare excellence. It was instructive, 
classical, eloquent. So great was the desire to hear 
him, that tickets for admission were sold, in some 
instances, for a hundred dollars. 

Frequently, wiien Mr. Webster was engaged in 
his favorite amusements of riding, gunning, and fish- 
ing, his mind would revert to the great themes 
which his office or his profession required him to 
discuss and settle. Some of the interesting passages 
in his addresses were prepared on these occasions. 
It is stated that, at one time, when engaged in 
angling, as he drew a large trout from the water, 
he exclaimed, as if addressing his captive, and re- 
garding it as the representative of others, " Venera- 
ble men ! you have come down to us from a former 
generation. Heaven has bounteously lengthened out 
your lives, that you might behold this joyous day." 



ADVANTAGES OF GOOD HUMOR. 233 

And these very words were afterwards employed in 
his oration at the laying of the corner stone of the 
Bunker Hill monument, when he addressed the vet- 
erans — the few surviving soldiers of that memora- 
ble batrie. 

It is a great mistake to suppose that cheerful hu- 
mor and sparkling wit should never be indulged. 
They are the developments of an element of char- 
acter which tends greatly to the promotion of human 
happiness. Ofttimes, when the brow is wrinkled 
with care, and the heart filled with sadness, some 
humorous remark, or sparkling repartee, or the re- 
lation of some ridiculous incident, or amusing anec- 
dote, will smooth that brow, and neutralize the sad- 
ness of the burdened spirit. In the walks of grave 
professional hfe, exhibitions of good humor are like 
beautiful wild flowers, peeping here and there from 
the rocks and crevices by the roadside, which, by 
their delicate colors and pleasant perfume, afford 
delight to the weary traveller, who would otherwise 
be oppressed with the monotony and gloominess of 
the way. Flowers of this kind Mr. Webster both 
culled and cultivated. He knew, also, how to use 
them. There were few men more genial, more hu- 
morous, or who could more easily set " the table in 
a roar," than he. His relation of anecdotes always 
produced a decided effect. 



234 Webster's spelling book. 

He was also exceedingly happy in giving a pleas- 
ant turn, in social company, to topics on which he 
difiered from otiieis. The followin"" is an instance. 
In 1847 he visited Cliarleston, South Carolina. A 
dinner was given him. There were present, at the 
tahle those with whose political sentiments he had 
no sympathy — those whom he had felt it his duty 
to ^ipose, in Congress and elsewhere, with all the 
weight of his personal talents and official position. 
After heing called out hy a toast, which was drank 
in his honor, he closed his speech in the following 
agreeable manner : — 

" Gentlemen, allow me to tell you of an incident. 
At Raleigh, a gentleman, purposing to call on me, 
asked his son, a little lad, if he did not wish to go 
and see Mr. Webster. The boy answered, ' Is it 
that INIr. Webster who made the spelling book, and 
sets me so many hard lessons ? If so, I never want 
to see him as long as I live,' 

" Now, gentlemen, I am that Mr. W^ebster who 
holds sentiments, on some subjects, not altogether 
acceptable, I am sorry to say, to some portions of 
the South. But I set no lessons ; I make no spell- 
ing bboks. If I spell out some portions of the Con- 
stitution of the United States in a manner different 
from that practised by others, I readily concede, 
nevertheless, to all others a right to disclaim my 



AN AGREEABLE SCHOOLMASTER. 235 

spelling, and adopt an orthography more suitable to 
their own opinions, leaving ail to tliat general pub- 
lic judgment to whicii we must, in the end, all sub- 
mit." And when he took his seat, the following 
toast was submitted : " Here's to the agreeable 
schoolmaster — who sets no lessons," 



I 



CHAPTER XIII. 

Mr. Webster an early Riser. — His Letter on the Morning-. — Ad- 
am's Morning's. — What to observe in the Morning. — Dr. Dod- 
dridge on early Rising-. — Beauties of Marshfield. — Mr. Web- 
ster's Love of Trees. — He protects Birds. — His Reward. — 
The Quails. — He tames wild Geese. — His Interest in the 
natural Sciences. — Presents Audubon with Birds. — The Wall- 
flower. — The Sound of the Sea. — Lessons of Nature. — Dig- 
nity of the Study of Nature. 

A PRACTICE of Mf. Webster, which he seems to 
have kept up through life, was tliat of early rising. 
Long before tlie first gray streak in the eastern ho- 
rizon heralded the approach of the " king of day," 
he was up, dressed, and in the depth of his day's | 

work. It was his uniform practice to despatch his 
study and correspondence by the middle of the fore- 
noon. On one occasion he said, " What little I 
have accomplished has been done early in the morn- 
ing." In a letter to an agricukural convention, he 
wrote, " When a boy among my native hills of New 
Hampshire, no cocJc crowed so early that I did not 
hear him.'''' During his residence at Washington, he 
was accustomed to visit the market, make his pur- 
chases, and converse familiarly with the butchers and 
farmers, long before the citizens of the capital were 

236 



WEBSTER AN EARLY RISER. 237 

Stirring. Strangers in Washington, after learning 
this fact, would themselves go to the market in the 
early dawn, for the purpose of getting a sight of the 
great statesman. 

Mr. Lanman says, " Mr. Webster admired, above 
all. things, to see the sun rise, especially from his 
chamber window at Marshfield. He appreciated 
the moral sublimity of the spectacle, and it ever 
seemed to fill his mind with mighty conceptions. 
On many occasi(ms, at sunrise, both in the spring 
and autumn, has he stolen into the chamber occupied 
by the writer, which looked upon the sea, and, with 
only his dressing gown on, has stood by his bedside, 
and startled tlie writer out of a deep sleep, by a 
loud shout somewhat to this effect : — 

" ' Awake, sluggard ! and look upon this glorious 
scene ; for the sky and the ocean are enveloped in 
flames ! ' 

" On one occasion the v^^riter was awakened in a 
similar manner at a very early hour, when, lo, Mr. 
Webster, who happened to be in a particularly play- 
ful mood, was seen going through the graceful mo- 
tions of an angler, throwing a fly and striking a 
trout, and then, without speaking a word, disap- 
peared. As a matter of course, that day was given 
to fishing." 

In 1852 Mr. Webster visited Virginia ; he contin- 
ued his habit there. As one of its results, we have 



238 HIS LETTER ON THE MORNING. 

the following beautifully descriptive account of the 
morning;. None but a passionate lover of the early 
dawn could have written it. 

"Richmond, Va., > 
Five o'clock, A. M., April 29, 1852. > 

" My dear Friend : Whether it be a favor or an 
annoyance, you owe this letter .to my early habits 
of rising. From the hour marked at the top of the 
page, you will naturally conclude tliat my compan- 
ions are not now engaging my attention, as we have 
not calculated on being early travellers to-day. 

" This city has a * pleasant seat.' It is high ; the 
James River runs below it, and when I went out, an 
hour ago, nothing was heard but the roar of the 
falls. The air is tranquil, and its temperature mild. 
It is morning, and a morning sweet, and fresh, and 
delightful. Every body knows the morning in its 
metaphorical sense, applied to so many occasions. 
The health, strength, and beauty of early years lead 
us to call that period the ' morning of life.' Of a 
lovely young woman we say, she is ' bright as the 
morning,' and no one doubts why Lucifer is called 
' son of the morning.' 

" But the morning itself, few people, inhabitants 
of cities, know any thing about. Among all our 
good people, no one in a thousand sees the sun rise 
once in a year. They know nothing of the morn- 
ing. Their idea of it is, that it is that part of the 



METAPHORICAL ALLUSIONS. 239 

day which comes along after a cup of coffee and a 
beefsteak, or a piece of toast. With them morning 
is • not a new issuing of hght, a new bursting forth 
of the sun, a new waking up of all that has life, 
from a sort of temporary death, to behold again the 
works of God, the heavens and the earth ; it is only 
a part of the domestic day, belonging to reading the 
newspapers, answering notes, sending the children to 
school, and giving orders for dinner. The first 
streak of hght, the earliest purpling of the east, 
which the lark springs up to greet, and the deeper 
and deeper coloring into orange and red, till at 
length the 'glorious sun is seen, regent of the day,' 
— this they never enjoy, for they never see it. 

«' Beautiful descriptions of the morning abound in 
all languages ; but they are the strongest, perhaps, 
in the East, where the sun is often an object of 
worship. 

"King David speaks of taking to himself the 
* wings of the morning.' This is highly poetical 
and beautiful. The wings of the morning are the 
beams of the rising sun. Rays of light are wings. 
It is thus said that the Sun of righteousness shall 
arise < with healing in his wings ' — a rising sun that 
shall scatter life, health, and joy throughout the 
universe. 

" Milton has fine descriptions of morning, but not 
so many as Shakspeare, from whose writings pages 



240 adam's mornings. 

of the most beautiful imagery, all founded on the 
glory of the morning, might be filled. 

" I never thought that Adam had much the ad- 
vantage of us, from having seen the world while it 
was new. 

" The manifestations of the power of God, like 
his mercies, are ' new every morning,' and fresh 
every moment. 

" We see as fine risino;s of the sun as ever Adam 
saw ; and its risings are as much a miracle now as 
they were in his day, and I think a good deal more, 
because it is now a part of the miracle that, for 
thousands and thousands of years, he has come to 
his appointed time, without the variation of a mil- 
lionth part of a second. Adam could not tell how 
this might be. I know the morning ; I am acquaint- 
ed witli it, and I love it. I love it fresh and sweet 
as it is — a daily new creation, breaking forth and 
calling all that have life, and breath, and being, to 
new adoration, new enjoyments, and new gratitude. 

" Daniel Webster." 

*' We see as fine risings of the sun as ever Adam 
saw." How interesting is that thought ! By rising 
early, and looking from an upper window, or as- 
cending some small eminence which gives us the 
command of the horizon, we may behold a scene 
of as much magnificence as greeted the eyes of 



EARLY RISING. 241 

Adam, when the first rays of the rising sun gilded 
the beauties of paradise. Try it, young reader. 
Rise before the sun ; go forth to hail his coming ; 
play in the beams sent forth by his upper edge, be- 
fore his centre makes its appearance ; observe care- 
fully the effects produced upon the appearance of 
the various objects upon hill, tree, cloud, lake, 
and building, as the darkness flees away, and the 
gray dawn brightens into the full light of day ; and 
if you possess a particle of the love of the beauti- 
ful, you will acknowledge that no display of the pyr- 
otechnic art can bear any comparison to the gor- 
geous splendor of the scene before you. 

Those who lounge away their time upon their 
pillow are not aware of the amount which the ag- 
gregate of these lost hours would make. Dr. Dod- 
dridge has said that the difference between rising at 
five and seven o'clock in the morning for the space 
of forty years, supposing a man to go to bed at the 
same hou^at night, is nearly equiv^alent to the addi- 
tion of ten years to a man's life. 

It follows that he who desires to lengthen his life 
in respect to its practical influence, should rise ear- 
lier than he has been accustomed to. All the time 
that he thus redeems from the pillow is so much 
added to active existence. 

In addition to this, the freshness of the morning 
air, and the renovation which the mind has received 
16 



2^12 BEAUTIES OF MARSHFIELD. 

from its recent sleep, by which the clearness of its 
perceptions and the rapidity of its operations are 
increased, render this a peculiarly favorable time 
. f )r intellectual pursuits. 

Mr. Webster's habit in this respect was similar to 
that of many other distinguished characters. Buffon, 
the great natiiralist, ascribes the existence of many 
voluines of his works to his practice of early rising. 

We have already remarked that Mr. Webster was 
a lover of nature. This was evinced in his choice 
of a residence at Marshfield, where hill, pond, for- 
est, and ocean combine their peculiar beauties to 
render the place attractive, and also by his assiduous 
care, with which all the peculiar charms of the place 
have been developed. 

General Lyman, in a letter which he wrote in 
November, 1843, at Marshfield, says, " Mr. Webster, 
seeing the interest I manifested yesterday on the 
subject of the forest, which is periodically cut down 
for wood, and suffered to grow up again^fwas kind 
enough to show me vast numbers of trees, prob- 
ably one hundred thousand, which he has plant- 
ed from the seed with his own hands. They are, 
however, yet small. He said his way had been to 
sow the seed, in favorable places, of the locust, 
horsechestnut, catalpa, &c., some of which have 
been transplanted at an early age, and others left to 
grow up in thickets. A little belt of wood thus 



i 










siSi^j 













MB, WEBSTER AT MARSHPIELD. 



, 



PLANTING TREES. 243 

produced, rione of the trees of which have bcc:i 
planted more than a dozen or thirteen years, bound- 
ing the lawn and pond on one side, is already so 
high and dense as to afford a perfectly shaded walk 
through the centre of it, not only making a beautiful 
promenade, but filling up the background of tlie 
landscape, of which the lawn and pond constitute 
prominent features. 

"Mr. Webster spoke in warm terms — terms al- 
most of indignation — of the stupidity of persons 
who omit to plant trees from an idea that they may 
not live to see their growth and beauty, or to taste 
their fruits. He reminded me of Walter Scott's 
good advice on this subject. He would plant a tree 
which would be growing while others were sleeping. 

"He spoke of the just and excellent taste of Sir 
Walter Scott, on all subjects of this kind, and re- 
ferred to two articles written for the London Quar- 
terly Review, some years ago, on planting trees, 
landscape, &c., as being full of instruction. ' Where 
is the man,' said Mr. Webster, ' who does not ad- 
mire the principle which actuated the late Stephen 
Girard, of Philadelphia, who, when bending over 
the grave with age, said he would plant a tree to-day 
if he knew he were to die to-morrow ? If every 
man were actuated by such sentiments, what a 
change it would produce in the affairs of the 
world ! ' 



244 THE HILL CHANGED. 

" He showed me eight or nine specimens of oak ; 
several of them he had obtained from the Southern 
States ; all the varieties of pines and cedars, and 
the arbor vitse, from Maine ; various sorts of ash, 
maple, and the buckeye from Ohio ; and the sweet 
gum from Virginia. 

'* For these last two, however, the climate was 
found somewhat too severe. The whitewood, as 
we call it in New York and Ohio, — properly the 
liriodcndron, or tulip tree, — appears to grow well. 
Hedses of buckthorn line the avenue to the house, 
stand the climate well, and are very handsome. 

*' In a few years these trees, according to my 
prediction, will be the admiration of every body, 
and branches of them will be cut and carried away 
by future generations, who will know the biography 
of the great man of our time, as branches are now 
cut and carried away from the trees which grow on 
the plantations of other sages, whose pillars are in 
the dust. The handsome wooden eminence near 
the house is now beautifully covered with a thicket 
of locusts, catalpas, young cherry trees, &c. This 
little hill, twelve years ago, was perfectly naked, and 
the sand was blown about by the wind. A lady, 
visiting Mrs. Webster, begged that so unsightly an 
object might be made to mend its appearance. Her 
advice was followed, and six years afterwards, visit- 
ing Marshfield again, she clapped her hands with 



MR. WEBSTER PROTECTS BIRDS. 245 

admiration at the success of what si e had recom- 
mended." 

Althoui^h Mr. Webster was fond of sunninsr, and 
often went out for that purpose, being an " excellent 
shot," yet he allowed no gun to be fired upon his 
premises. Such birds and game as approached his 
house, or made it their home any where on his 
grounds, he would not allow to be disturbed. The 
delightful effect of this kind treatment is described 
as follows by his visitor : — 

" I was struck with the tameness of several httle 
animals and birds, which I have elsewhere found 
quite wild and shy. A squirrel, for instance, sat 
almost within our reach, eating a nut, and hearing 
us talk, without the least indication of fear. The 
birds hopped about, singing their wild notes, as if 
unconscious of our presence. A brood of quails 
had actually been hatched between the house and 
the gate, in the hedge that lines the carriage way to 
the door. I inquired why this was so ; he said, 
' During the whole time I have been there, I have 
endeavored to cultivate their acquaintance, and have 
never permitted their nests to be disturbed ; nor do I 
allow guns to be fired on the premises, nor sticks or 
stones to be thrown at them, nor any thing done that 
would frighten them away. They seem to know 
where they are well treated, and come with the sea- 
sons to enjoy my protection.' " 



246 REWARD OF PROTECTION. 

On one occasion, Mr. Webster was walking over 
his orounds with a s^entleman from Boston, when a 
flock of quails darted across the road only a few 
feet from them. The gentleman was highly excited 
at the discovery of the game, and longed to try his 
skill with powder and ball. " O, if I only had a 
gun," said he, " I could easily kill the whole flock. 
Have you not one in your house, sir 1 " 

*' Yes, sir," replied Mr. Webster, with his usual 
cahnness — " yes, sir, I have a number of guns ; but 
no man whatsoever do I ever permit to kill a bird^ 
rabbit, or squirrel, on any of my property." He 
then proceeded to condemn the indiscriminate 
slaughtering propensities of the Americans. 

" In this country," said he, "there is an almost 
universal passion for killing and eating every wild 
animal that chances to cross the pathway of man ; 
while in England and other portions of Europe 
these animals are kindly protected and valued for 
their companionship. This is to me a great myste- 
ry ; and so far as my influence extends, the birds 
shall be protected." Just at this moment one of the 
little fugitive quails, that the visitor was so anxious 
to kill, mounted a little eminence, and poured forth 
a song, as if in gratitude to its humane protector. 
" There," said Mr. Webster, " does not that gush of 
song do the heart a thousand fold more good than 
could possibly be derived from the death of that 



« 



MR. WEBSTER TAMES WILD GEESE. 247 

beautiful bird ? " The stranger returned his thanks 
to Mr. Webster for his gentle reproof, and subse- 
quently acknowledged that " this httle incident made 
him love the man whom he had before only admired 
as a statesman." 

Mr. Webster, in the earnestness of his desire to 
surround his dwelling at Marshfield with the charms 
of animated nature, has succeeded in accomplish- 
ing, what very few persons in this country have ever 
attempted, viz., the taming of wild geese. "The 
value and pictorial beauty of Marshfield are greatly 
enhanced," says Mr. Lanman, " by the existence, in 
the immediate vicinity of the mansion, of a trio of 
little lakes, all of them fed by springs of the purest 
water. The two smaller ones are the favorite 
haunts of the common geese and the duck tribes ; 
but the larger one, which sttids the landscape very 
charmingly, is the exclusive domain of a large flock 
of wild geese which Mr. Webster had domesticated. 
He informed the writer that his first attempts to tame 
these beautiful creatures were all unsuccessful, until 
the idea occurred to him that perhaps they might be 
made contented with their civihzed abode, provided 
they could have awarded to them small sedgy islands, 
such as were found at their breeding-places in the 
far north, where they might make their nests and 
remain undisturbed by the fox and other prowling 
animals. The experiment was tried ; and while 



248 LOVE OF NATURE. 

the geese were rendered contented with tlieir h>t, 
the. lake itself his been greatly improved in pictur- 
esque beauty by its wild yet artificial islands. In- 
deed, the rural scenery of Marshfield is all that 
could be desired by the painter or poet ; but when 
they come to add thereto an immense expanse of 
marsh land, veined with silver streams, dotted with 
islands of unbroken forest, skirted with a far-reach 
ing beach, and bounded by the blue ocean, they can- 
not but be deeply impressed with the magnificence 
of its scenery." 

Mr. Webster's love of Nature was not superficial. 
Whilst lie greatly admired all her external features, 
he was interested in the study of her laws. In his li- 
brary was a collection of rare and valuable works on 
the various departments of natural history, and thenat- 
ural sciences, the perusal of which afforded him great 
pleasure whenever he could secure time for the pur- 
pose. On a certain occasion, when these subjects 
were made the topics of conversation, he said that 
he wished he could live three lives while living this. 
"One I would devote to the study of geology — 
to reading the earth's history of itself. Another hfe 
I would devote to astronomy. I have recently read 
the history of that science, written so clearly, that, 
althouo-h I am no mathematician, I could understand 
it, and was astonished at seeing to what heights it 



WEBSTER AND AUDUBON. 249 

had been puslied by modern intellects. The other 
I would devote to the classics." 

It is an interesting- fact, and one on which the 
young would do well to ponder, that, as Mr. Webster 
advanced in years, his mind was withdrawn from 
themes and speculations which interested him in the 
earlier periods of his life, and was devoted, with in- 
creased pleasure, to the contemplation and study of 
nature. 

Amongst all the visitors who were honored with 
the hospitality of his elegant mansion, there were 
few so cheerfully welcomed as those who were 
devoted to the investigation of natural objects. 
With these Mr. Webster loved to converse, and ex- 
change items of information. He also furnished 
such individuals every facility in his power for the 
prosecution of their studies. The celebrated Audu- 
bon was one of his personal friends ; and on one 
occasion, when the great ornithologist was visiting 
Marshfieid, " he was presented by Mr. Webster with 
a wagon load of miscellaneous birds, which the lat- 
ter had ordered to be killed by his hunters all along 
the coast, and among them was the identical Canada 
goose which figures so beautifully in the ' Birds of 
America.' Mr. Webster has said that the delighted 
naturalist studied the attitude of that single goose 
for an entire daj , and that he was three days in tak- 
ing its portrait.' 



250 SOUND OF THE SEA. 

At another time, in conversation with a clerj,'yman, 
— Rev. Dr. Clioules, — he gave utterance to tlie fol- 
lowing beautiful sentiments ; — 

" When I was in England I was greatly pleased 
with the wallflower, so often seen upon the walls of 
ruins and decaying buildings. The country people 
call it the bloody wallflower. I seldom picked this 
sweet-scented flower without thinking of the hopes 
and wishes of life — the best and sweetest of my 
life all surrounded with ruin and decay : still we 
must look out for the blossoms of hope." 

" I have been reading White's Selbourne once 
more. What moral beauty there was in White's 
mind ! How he revelled in quiet country life ! and 
when he became deaf, and could no longer hear the 
birds sing, yet he thanks God that his eyesight is 
still quick and good." 

Walking in the evening at Marshfield, and gazing 
at the sea, Mr. Webster stopped, and placing his 
hand upon the shoulder of the same gentleman, re- 
cited several verses of Mrs. Hemans's impressive 
poem on the Sound of the Sea ; 

" Thou art sounding' on, thou mighty sea, 
Forever and the same j 
The ancient rocks yet ring to thee, 
Whose thunders nought can tame. 

<' O, many a glorious voice is gone 
From the rich bowers of earth, 



" 



^51 



LESSONS OF NATURE. '^' 

And hushed is many a lovely one 
Of mournfulness or mirlh. 

" But thou art swelling' on, thou deep, 
Throug'h many an olden clime, 
Thy billowy anthems ne'er to sleep 
Until the close of time." 

The study of nature is one of the noblest employ- 
ments of the human mind. We are then brought 
into direct contact with the works of the Creator. 
We are furnished with conclusive evidences of his 
existence and attributes. Not only by these pursuits 
is the taste refined, and the love of the beautiful 
strengthened, but an influence is exerted favorable 
to the cultivation of moral character. 

.Besides, in the study of nature we need not go 
far for lessons. They spring up in the beautiful 
flowers which ornament our path ; they smile upon 
us in the stars above our head ; we may read them 
upon the tapestry of the ever-changing clouds, in the 
architecture of mountains, and the solemn grandeur 
of ancient forests ; they whisper around us in the 
buzzing of insects ; they charm us in the melody of 
birds ; they fill us with awe in the howling of the 
storm, the roaring of the angry ocean, and the ter- 
rific tones of the threatening thunder. They are 
spread out all around us on nature's ample page, and 
whenever so disposed, we may study them to our 
♦* heart's content." We are aware of a class of in- 



252 DIGNITY OF NATURE. 

dividuals in the community who look with a feeHng 
bordering upon contempt on pursuits of this nature. 
Picking weeds to pieces, or carefully examining the 
formation of an insect, or a reptile, they seem to 
regard as totally unworthy so exalted a being as 
man. 

They cherish a feeling of pity bordering on con- 
tempt for those who are devoted to such pur- 
suits. It would be well for such persons to consider 
whether any thing, which the all-wise Creator has 
not deemed as beneath himself to make, can be un- 
worthy for us to examine and admire, and whether 
it may not exhibit a want of suitable regard for the 
Creator himself, when the displays of his power and 
glory, as exhibited in the works of his hand, fail of 
attracting attention, or of awakening admiration. 



CHAPTER XIV. 

Mr. Webster's Candor. — Mr. Ketchum's Testimony. — Direction 
to Mr. Everett.— His Magnanimity. — Dr. Choules's Testimo- 
ny. — Webster and Dickenson.— Webster's Eulog-y on Cal- 
houn. — Character of his Mind. — His impressive Manner. — 
He will be remembered. — Webster and Hayne. — How to treat 
Opponents. — Charity. 

The nobleness of Mr. Webster's nature was ex- 
hibited in a striking manner on different occasions, 
when he endeavored to prevent the perpetuity of 
personal feuds. In the exciting debates of Con- 
gress it was natural, under the influence of tempo- 
rary impulse, that language should be used, which, 
in a calmer mood, the speaker himself would not 
justify. Such instances, however, were exceedingly 
rare in the speeches of Mr. Webster. He seemed 
always to appreciate the dignity of his character as 
a senator of the most powerful republic on earth, 
and evinced an unwillingness to do or say any thing 
that was unbecoming his exalted position. He was 
not insensible to the high standing of his opponents, 
neither was he unwilling to accord to them his 
meed of praise for their genius and learning. 

Hiram Ketchum, Esq., of New York, in a brief 
eulogy upon Mr. Webster, among other things, said, 

253 



254 MR. KETC hum's TESTIMONY. 

" I have known him in private and domestic life. 
During tlie last twenty-five years I have received 
many letters from him, some of which I retain, 
and some have been destroyed at his request. I 
have had the jDleasure of meeting him often in pri- 
vate circles, and at the festive board, where some 
of our sessions were not short ; but neither in his 
letters nor his conversation have I ever known him 
to express an impure thought, an immoral sentiment, 
or use profane language. Neither in writing nor 
in conversation have I ever known him assail any 
man. No man in my hearing was ever slandered 
or spoken ill of by Daniel Webster. Never in my 
life have I known a man whose conversation was 
uniformly so unexceptionable in tone and edifying 
in character. No man ever had more tenderness of 
feeling than Daniel Webster. He had his enemies 
as malignant as any man ; but there was not one of 
them, who, if he came to him in distress, would not 
receive all the relief in his power to bestow." 

Another illustration of his magnanimity is fur- 
nished in his direction to the Hon. Edward Everett, 
when carrying Mr. Webster's Works through the 
press, to suppress all allusions which were adapted 
to perpetuate personal feuds. In allusion to this 
fact, Mr. Everett, in his beautiful eulogy upon Mr. 
Webster, says, — 

** In preparing the new edition of his works, he 



Webster's magnanimity. 255 

thought proper to leave ahnost mrery thing to my 
discretion — as far as matters of taste are concerned. 
One tiling only he enjoined upon me, with an ear- 
nestness approaching to a command. ' My friend,' 
said he, ' I wish to perpetuate no feuds. I have 
sometimes, though rarely, and that in self-defence, 
been led to speak of others with severity. I beg 
you, where you can do it without wholly changing the 
character of the speech, and thus doing essential in- 
justice to me, to obliterate every trace of personali- 
ty of this kind. I should prefer not to leave a word 
that would give unnecessary pain to any honest man, 
however opposed to me.' 

" But I need not tell you, fellow-citizens, that 
there is no one of our distinguished public men 
whose speeches contain less occasion for such an in- 
junction. Mr. Webster habitually abstained from 
the use of the poisoned weapons of personal invec- 
tive or party odium. No one could more studiously 
abstain from all attempts to make a political oppo- 
nent personally hateful. If the character of our 
congressional discussions has of late years somewhat 
declined in dignity, no portion of the blame lies at 
his door." 

A gentleman who was on familiar terms with him 
for years says, " In all the interviews which I had the 
happiness and honor to enjoy with this great man, 
I cannot remember that I ever heard him utter an 



256 WEBSTER AND DICKENSON. 

unkind, acrimonious, or uncharitable remark upon 
any man. Once, wher a gentleman had named 
some violent censures heaped upon him in his pub- 
lic character, Mr. Webster calmly replied, ' Perhaps 
my calumniator's misfortunes have soured his tem- 
perament, for I remember him a very kindly-dis- 
posed person ; we must make allowances for the in- 
firmities of age.' The provocation had been very 
great, and his motives had been wantonly assailed, 
yet his considerate and magnanimous spirit tri- 
umphed nobly upon this occasion." * 

As another instance, we relate the following : 
After the negotiation of the Ashburton treaty, by 
which very complicated and threatening difficulties 
between this and the mother country were adjusted, 
Mr. Webster had serious charges alleged against 
him in the United States Senate by Hon. Mr. Dick- 
enson. These charges he repelled in strong lan- 
guage. When, in 1850, Mr. Webster left the Senate 
in order to enter upon his duties as Secretary of 
State, he addressed the following letter to Mr. Dick- 
enson. The pai)iful occurrences to which he refers 
are those connected with that debate. 

" Washington, Sept. 27, 1850. 
" My dear Sir : Our companionship in the Sen- 
ate is dissolved. After this long and most impor- 

* Rev. Dr. Choules. 



HIS LETTER TO BiCKENSON. 257 

lant session, you are about to return to your home, 
and I shall try to find leisure to visit mine. I hope 
we may meet each other again two months hence, 
for the discharge of our duties in our respective sta- 
tions in the government. But life is uncertain, and 
I have not felt willing to take leave of you without 
placing in your hands a note containing a very few 
words which I wish to say to you. 

" In the earlier part of our acquaintance, my dear 
sir, occurrences took place which I remember with 
constantly-increasing regret and pain, because, the 
more I have known of you, the greater have been 
my esteem for your character and my respect 
for your talents. But it is your noble, able, man- 
ly, and patriotic conduct in support of the great 
measure of this session which has entirely won 
my heart, and secured my highest regard. 1 hope 
you may live long to serve your country ; but I 
do not thitik you are ever likely to see a crisis in 
which you may be able to do so much either for 
your own distinction or the public good. You have 
stood where others have fallen ; you have advanced 
with firm and manly step where others have wa- 
vered, faltered, and fallen back ; and for one, I desire 
to thank you, and to commend your conduct, out of 
the fulness of an honest heart. 

" This letter needs no reply ; it is, I am aware, of 
very httle value ; but I have thought you might be 
17 



25S EULOGY ON CALHOUN. 

willing to receive it, and, perhaps, to leave it where 
it would be seen by those who shall come after you. 
I pray you, when you reach your own threshold, to 
remember me most kindly to your wife and daughter. || 

I remain, my dear sir, with the truest esteem, 

*' Your friend and obedient servant, 

" Daniel Webster. 

" Hon. D. S. Dickenson, U. S. Senate." 

Another interesting illustration of his noble high 
mindedness was furnished in his eulogy upon Mr. 
Calhoun, of South Carolina. On some of the most 
important questions ever discussed by Congress, and 
in some of the most intensely-exciting debates, he 
and Mr. Calhoun were opponents. On the floor of 
the Senate, that great arena for intellectual chivalry, 
they measured lances. A spectator might have im- 
agined that in heart, as well as in political opinion, • 
they were strongly hostile to each other. Yet when 
it was announced in the Senate by Mr. Butler, 
his colleague, that Mr. Calhoun had deceased, Mr. 
Webster arose and delivered a beautiful eulogy, from 
which we make the following extracts, which show 
how highly he could appreciate the talents and 
character of an honorable opponent, and with what 
felicity he could express his admiration. a 

" I hope the Senate will indulge me in adding a 
very few words to what has been said. My apology 



EULOGY ON CALHOUN. 259 

for this presumption is tlie very long acquaintance 
which has subsisted between Mr. Calhoun and my- 
self. We were of the same age. I made my first 
entrance into the House of Representatives in May, 
1813. I found there Mr. Calhoun. He had already 
been a member of that body for two or three years. 
I found him there an active and efficient member of 
the House, taking a decided part, and exercising a 
decided influence in all its deliberations. 

^' From that day to the day of his death, amidst all 
the strifes of party and politics, there has subsisted 
between us always, and without interruption, a great 
degree of persoyial kindness. 

■" Differing widely on many great questions re- 
specting our institutions and the government of the 
country, those difterences never interrupted our per- 
sonal and social intercourse. I have been present 
at most of the distinguished instances of the exhibi- 
tion of his talents in debate. I have always heard 
him with pleasure, often with much instruction, not 
unfrequently with the highest degree of admira- 

4 

tion. 

" Mr. Calhoun was calculated to be a leader in 
whatsoever association of political friends he was 
thrown. He was a man of undoubted genius and 
of commanding talent. All the country and all the 
world admit that. His mind was both perceptive 
and vigorous. It was clear, quick, and strong. 



260 MR. Calhoun's eloquence. 

" Sir, the eloquence of Mr. Calhoun, or the manner 
in which he exhibited his sentiments in public bodies, 
was part of his intellectual character. It grew out 
of the qualities of his mind. It was plain, strong, 
terse, condensed, concise, sometimes impassioned, 
still always severe. Rejecting ornament, not often 
seeking far for illustration, his power consisted in 
the plainness of his propositions, in the closeness of 
his logic, and in the earnestness and energy of his 
manner. These are the qualities, as I think, which 
have enabled him through such a long course of 
years to speak often, and yet always command atten- 
tion. His demeanor as a Senator is known to us 
all — is appreciated, venerated, by us all. No man 
was more respectful to others ; no man carried him- 
self with greater decorum, no man with superior 
dignity. I think there is not one of us, when he 
last addressed us from his seat in the Senate, — his 
form still erect, with a voice by no means indicating 
such a degree of physical weakness as did in fact 
possess him, with clear tones, and an impressive, and, 
I may say, an imposing manner, — who did not feel 
that he micrht imajfine that we saw before us a 
Senator of Rome while Rome survived. 

" Mr. President, he had the basis, the indispensable 
basis, of all high character — and that was unspotted 
integrity and unimpeached honor. If he had aspi- 
rations, they were high, and honorable, and noble. 



WEBSTER AND HAYNE, 261 

There was nothing grovelling, or low, or meanly 
selfish that came near the head or heart of Mr. 
Calhoun 

" He has hved long enough, he has done enough ; 
and he has done it so well, so successfully, so honor- 
ably, as to connect himself for all time with the 
records of his country. He is now an historical 
character. Those of us who have known him 
here will find that he has left upon our minds 
and our hearts a strong and lasting impression 
of his person, his character, and his public per- 
formances, which, while we live, will never be 
obliterated. We shall hereafter, I am sure, indulge 
it as a greatful recollection that we have lived in 
his age, that we have been his contemporaries, 
that we have seen, and heard him, and known him. 
We shall delight to speak of him to those who are 
rising up to fill our places. And when the time 
shall come that we ourselves must go, one after 
another, to our graves, we shall carry with us a deep 
sense of his genius and character, liis honor and 
integrity, his amiable deportment in private life, 
and the purity of his exalted patriotism." 

Mr. Hayne was a far more violent controver- 
sialist than Mr. Calhoun. His attack upon Mr. 
Webster and upon Massachusetts in the Senate on 
Mr. Foot's resolution, so unprovoked, so gracefully 



262 MAGNAJflMITY. 

acrimonious, called forth from Mr. Webster what 
has been termed his " great speech," yet when Mr. 
Webster visited South Carolina, subsequently to 
the death of Mr. Hayne, he took occasion to speak 
publicly of his deceased opponent in the most re- 
spectful manner. His animosities, if he had any, 
seemed to have been buried in the grave of his 
distinguished competitor. 

We have dwelt upon this trait of character the 
longer, because we desire to commend it strongly to 
the imitation of the young. We all have opponents. 
Where the opposition is merely one of opinion, it is 
comparatively harmless. We may differ in senti- 
ment without any interruption of friendly relations. 
Yet in that case it is eminently . desirable that each 
should treat his opponent with great courtesy. They 
should be careful not to impugn each others motives, 
not to indulgre in criminations and recriminations, not 
to exhibit in tone or gesture an acrimonious spirit. 
Each should strive to present the opinions of the 
other with perfect fairness, to put upon them the 
most favorable construction, and to discuss them with 
great candor. No permanent advantage is ever 
gained by misrepresentation. 

But when the opposition extends beyond that of 
opinion, when there is an evident intention on the fl 

part of an opponent to inflict upon us injury, then an 



I 



CHARITY. 



263 



opportunity is offered for the exercise of magna- 
nimity. When a foe has fallen, attempt not his 
ruin, but extend towards him the hand of kindness. 
Having defended yourself, there pause. Follow not 
your vanquished opponent with invective. Give him 
credit for all the commendable qualities he possesses, 
and make all the allowances charity can suggest for 
the imperfections of his character and the incorrect- 
ness of his opinions. 



CHAPTER XV. 

The Human Family a Brotherhood. — Effect of little Kindnesses. 
Webster and Miss Mitford. — Influence of a Friend's Death. — 
Donations of Garden Seeds. — Gives away a Cow. — Kindness 
to Mr. Tappan. — Hungarian Bull. — Gores Mr. Taylor. — Kos- 
suth. — Mr. Webster's Present. — Charles Brown's Use of Holi- 
day Money.' — Items in Mr. Webster's Will. — A Rebuke and 
Fifty Dollars. — The Old Lady on Webster's Farm. — Another 
Fifty Dollars. — Webster loans a Client Money. — A touching 
Story of a Widow's Poverty and Mr. Webster's Benevolence. 

The human family constiTOtes one great brother- 
hood. Each should feel an interest in each. When- 
ever an opportunity exists of removing the difficulties 
in others' paths, of lightening their burdens, or of 
promoting their elevation, improvement, and happi- 
ness, the assistance should be cheerfully rendered. 

As human happiness and misery are made up of \ 

the a2:gregate of things in themselves comparatively 
trivial, enconrasrement is offered for all to labor in 
the field of benevolence. Every kind word, or gentle 
smile, or unexpensive gift exerts a beneficent influ- ' 

ence. It is like a gleam of sunshine breaking 
through the clouds in a dark and stormy day. 
Unexpected acts of favor towards our fellow-pilgrims I 

in the journey of life are ofttimes like the notes of 

2Gi 



EFFECT OF KINDNESS. 2G5 

some familiar tune sweetlj falling upon the ear of 
the weary traveller when resting upon the fragments 
of hoary ruins in some remote wilderness, where he 
supposed himself excluded, by many a tedious 
league, from all civilized beings. That favorite tune 
dispels the illusion, by the conviction which it awakens 
that sympathetic companionship is at hand. By the 
power of association, those time-honored ruins seem 
peopled )fith familiar forms. The feeling of loneli- 
ness is entirely gone. How many of life's pilgrims 
there are, who, though surrounded by a multitude, 
feel alone ! To them it seems as if there was " no 
flesh in man's obdurate heart ; it does not feel for 
man " — as if a great gulf, separated them from the 
mass of unfeeling humanity moving around them. 
Slight attentions, kind words, offices of friendship 
bridge this gulf, and make them feel that they are in 
sympathetic communication with the race. These 
labors of love, like rays of heavenly light, banish the 
darkness of their hearts ; the air seems filled with 
the melody of household ttuies, awakening in the 
otherwise desolate soul a sense of brotherhood with 
man. 

x\mong the incidents in the life of Mr. Webster 
which have been made public are a number illustra- 
tive of his thoughtful friendship and benevolence. 

When in England, some dozen years ago, he was 
in company with Mary Russell Mitford. In her 



266 MR. WEBSTER AND MISS MITFORD. 

"Recollections of a Literary Life," this lady relates the 
following pleasing reminiscence of that occasion : — 

" During this visit a little circumstance occurred, 
so characteristic, so graceful, and so gracious, that I 
cannot resist the temptation of relating it. Walking 
in my cottage garden, we talked naturally of the 
roses and pinks that surrounded us, and of the dif- 
ferent indigenous flowers of our island and of the 
United States. I had myself had the satisfaction of 
sending to my friend Mr. Theodore Sedgwick a 
hamper containing roots of many English plants 
familiar to our poetry : the common ivy, (how could 
they want ivy who had had no time for ruins ?) the 
primrose, and the cowslip, immortalized by Shak- 
speare and by Milton ; and the sweet-scented violets, 
both white and purple, of our hedgerows and our 
lanes ; that known as tiie violet in America, (Mr. 
Bryant somewhere speaks of it as ' the yellow violet,') 
being, I suspect, the little wild pansy, (viola tricolor,) 
renowned as the love-in-idleness of Shakspeare's 
famous compliment to Queen Elizabeth. Of these we 
spoke ; and I expressed an interest in two flowers, 
known to me only by the vivid description of Miss 
Martineau — the scarlet lily of New York and of the 
Canadian woods, and the fringed gentian of Niagara. 
I observed that our illustrious guest made some 
remark to one of the ladies of the party ; but I 
little expected that, as soon after his return as seeds 



t 



VALUE OF TOKENS. 267 

of these plants could be procured, I should receive a 
package of each, signed and directed by his own 
hand. How much pleasure these little kindnesses 
give ! And how many such have come to me from 
over the same wide ocean ! " 

Here an interest in certain flowers, expressed by a 
lady in casual conversation, was remembered for 
months, and was the means of inducing him to send, 
unasked, a package three thousand miles, signed 
and directed by his own hand, that she might enjoy 
the gratification of raising the flowers for herself. 
The plants produced by those seeds were no doubt 
highly prized by the gifted authoress ; and now that 
he who sent them has passed away, they will be held 
in higher estimation than ever. How strange it is 
that the death of a friend enhances the value of all 
the tokens of his kindness ! Gifts, of which we were 
unmindful while their donor was alive, become 
treasured mementoes of his love, when the hand that 
gave them is mouldering in the tomb. In such 
treasures not a few have been made rich by the 
demise of the great statesman. Trees of grafts cut 
from his orchards,' animals reared from stock on 
his farm, plants raised from seed received from his 
hands, to say notliing of tokens of other kinds, and 
especially letters in which he has poured out the 
fulness of his heart, though valued before, will now 
be more highly prized than ever. 



203 DONATIONS OF SEEDS. 

Wlien Mr. Webster was in Congress, he was ac- 
customed to receive from diflerent quarters seeds of 
various kinds. These he neither sold nor monopo- a 

lized for liimself. Being greatly interested in agri- 
cultural pursuits, he was desirous of diffusing as far 
as possible all kinds of crops. For this reason he | 

gave away the seeds which he received, that the 
farmers might experiment with them upon their 
different kinds of soil. In that beautiful letter to 
John Taylor, containing such a mingling of gravity 
and cheerfulness, sober politics and minute farming 
directions, where there is such a singular blending 
of incongruous objects as " pennyroyal crops," 
"little wife," "my mother's garden," and "the 
graves of my family," he says, " I have sent you 
many garden seeds. Distribute than among your 
neighbors. Send them to the stores in the village," 
(not to sell ; no, no, but) " that every body may have 
part of them without cost.^^ ■* 

It would be interesting to know the liistory of 
some of those seeds. What were they ? which of 
them were successfully raised ? how did they com- 
pare with other crops of the same kind ? did any 
of them introduce new species ? in what respects 
was their introduction an improvement ? has a suc- 
cession of crops been raised from these seeds ? how 
have those crops turned out as to quahty and 
quantity 1 



AN OLD AC(^UAINTANCE. 269 

If we had the means of answering these ques- 
tions, it would not be at all sur])iising to learn that 
new and important additions had been made to 
certain departments of the agricultural interest by 
seeds received throuoh the thoughtful attention of 
the farmer statesman. 

But Mr. Webster not only gave away seeds. 
When occasion required it, he was willing to part 
with more important articles. He was especially 
considerate towards his unfortunate neighbors. 
Such was his accessibleness when at home, that the 
farmers in his vicinity freely approached him and 
related their embarrassments. Those who had 
been acquainted with him in his early years made 
capital of their former friendship in appealing to his 
benevolence. 

On one occasion, when confined by illness to his 
room at Marshfield, an old friend who resided at a 
distance of thirty miles called to see him. He vras 
at once admitted to the chamber. At first the 
conversation was upon " days of auld lang syne." 
They each drew upon their store of reminiscences, 
and lived old scenes over again. After some time 
had been spent in this delightful manner, the v^isitor 
entered upon his tale of woe, and related the various 
misfortunes which he had experienced. He seems 
to have been in reduced circumstances, for in the 
conversation he incidentally expressed his earnest 



270 GIVES AWAY A COW. 

desire to obtain a o-ood cow. The invalid listened 
attentively to every word he uttered, but made no 
reply. When the friend had finished the story of 
his sorrows, and arose to leave, Mr. Webster called 
Mr. Porter Wright, the superintendent of his farm, 
into his presence, and gave him instructions to show 
his friend the cattle which were on the farm, and 
then present him with any cow which he might 
be pleased to select from the number. The herd 
was examined, and the visitor made choice of a fine 
Alderney, valued at fifty dollars, which was cheer- 
fully given him by his invalid friend. He went 
away rejoicing. " And this is only one of many 
similar instances which might and will be recorded 
of the astonishing liberahty of Mr. Webster." 

We have already referred to the fact that when 
his early teacher, Mr. Tappan, was reduced to 
poverty, in his old age, he sent him at one time fifty, 
and at another time twenty dollars for his relief 
The delicacy, with which it was done — the words 
of aftectionate sympathy which accompanied these 
substantial tokens of friendship — must have rendered 
the donation doubly acceptable. 

On the Elms Farm, at FrankUn, Mr. Webster had 
a bull of the Hungarian breed. It was young, 
laro-e, and beautiful, weighing about two thousand 
pounds, with a neck more than six fefit in circum- 
ference, and of a delicate light slate color. It was an 



HUNGARIAN BULL. 271 

object of special interest to those who visited the 
place. Oil one occasion, Mr. John Taylor was in 
the field with it, when, without provocation, the 
animal suddenly became enraged, rushed upon him, 
gored him with his horns, tossed him high in the 
air, and, after he had fallen, trampled him under his 
hoofs, injuring him severely. He would probably 
have been wounded much more dangerously if he 
had not seized and held on to tlie ring which orna- 
mented the bull's nose. As it was, he had a .very 
narrow escape from death. 

Mr. Webster heard in Boston that the superin- 
tendent of his farm was injured, but he knev>^ not the 
particulars. It being the season of the year when 
he was accustomed to make his annual visit there, 
he was soon on his way to Franklin. When he 
reached Concord, where he heard the particulars of 
the affair, and learned that his life was considered in 
danger, he v/as deeply afflicted, and manifested great 
anxiety to pursue his journey. A§ soon as he 
arrived at home, he hastened to the house of Mr. 
Taylor, whom he found prostrate upon his bed, 
enduring the severe sufferings of a dislocated 
shoulder, a dreadfully bruised breast, and a deep 
wound in his thigh, some seven inches long. Mr. 
Webster was filled with solicitude for his friend. 
He inquired the opinion of the physician, and when 



272 SALMON AND GRAPES. 

lie learned tliat lie liad pronounced Inm out of 
danger, he was greatly relieved. 

Mr. Taylor, doubtless, in order that he might 
allay the anxiety of Mr. Webster, gave quite an 
amusino; narrative of his rencounter with the enraged 
animal, and of other feats which it had performed. 
" Do you think the creature is dangerous ? " asked 
Mr. W., "and ought to be chained ? " 

" Why," replied Taylor, " he is no more fit to 
go abroad than your friend Governor Kossuth him- 
self." 

" Rather strong language this," humorously re- 
plied Mr. W. ; " but when a man has been gored al- 
most to death by an Hungarian bull, it is not strange 
that he should be severe upon the Hungarian gov- 
ernor." 

We have related this painful incident in order to 
say that when Mr. W. first heard of it in Boston, 
not, however, imagining the extent of its severity, 
he immediately determined to take Mr. Taylor a 
present of something which he supposed would be 
appropriate to one in his condition. He looked 
around, and made the necessary purchase. When 
he arrived at Elms Farm, he gladdened the heart of 
the wounded man by the donation of a basket of 
grapes and afresh salmon, brought purposely for him 
from Boston. The present was worthy of a noble- 



FXONOMICAL SERVANT. 273 

man, and they were noblemen of nature's mould 
who gave and received it. 

O, how greatly such acts of friendly attention 
smooth the sharp asperities of life ! How they pour 
the oil of gladness into the wounded spirit ! A bou- 
quet of flowers, a little fruit, or pleasant confection, 
sent into the room of the invalid, are odorous with 
the fragrance of affection ; they are little tokens 
of remembrance ; they show tlie sufferer that he is 
not forgotten by the absent, but is thought of with 
interest, and his happiness desired. 

Mr. Webster seems to have been particularly kind 
to those in his employ. He had in Washington a 
colored man of the name of Charles Brown, who 
was his servant for nearly thirty years. He was a 
wortiiy, trusty person. Mr. Webster appreciated his 
qualities, and was accustomed to give him money to 
spend on holidays and other times, in addition, as we 
suppose, to his support. A few years ago he ascer- 
tained that this servant had bought a piece of land, 
and had erected a small, yet comfortable house. 

" Where did you gQt money to purchase so fine 
a house 1 " asked he. 

" I am glad to say, sir," replied Brown, " that it 

all came out of your pocket. It is the money which 

you have given me on holidays and at other times." 

It would seem from this that the spending-money 

18 



i 



274 MR. Webster's will. 

given to this servant must have been somewhat 
Hberal. 

A similar s])irit was developed by Mr. Webster in 
the following " items " in his last will and testa- 
ment : — 

" Item. My servant William .Tohnson is a free 

man. I bought his freedom not long ago for six 

hundred dollars. No demand is to be made upon ?, 

t 
him for any portion of this sum, but so long as is '' 

agreeable, I hope he will remain with the family. 

" Item. Monicha McCarty, Sarah Smith, and j 

Ann Bean, colored persons, now, also, and for a 
long time in my service, are all free. They are 
very well deserving, and whoever comes after me 
must be kind to them." 

Public men, especially if they have the reputation 
of wealth and liberality, are frequently called upon 
by private individuals for donations to various ob- 
jects. In these calls the proprieties of time and 
circumstance are not always regarded. Sometimes, 
instead of donations, reproofs are received. On 
one occasion, Mr. Webster gave both. The follow- 
ing are the facts : — 

A lady called upon him in Washington, and relat- 
ed u long and mournful story about her afflictions, 
stating that she was very poor ; that she resided in 
a western city ; that she had not sufficient money to 



A LADY SOLICITOR. 27-5 

reach her home, and then asked him to assist her. 
He hstened with some degree of impatience to her 
tale, expressed his surprise that she, a total stranger, 
should feel at liberty to call on him for the purpose 
of soliciting charity, simply because he was con- 
nected with the government ; and, after administer- 
ing a plain reprimand for her improper conduct, he 
closed the interview by presenting her ivith fifty 
dollars. 

It is sometimes a difficult task to decide upon the 
path of duty in such cases. It is so easy to be de- 
ceived by impostors, and such deceptions occur so 
frequently, that we know not, when a stranger asks 
for assistance, whether it may not be one of this class. 
A safe course would be to require corroborating 
evidence of the facts in the case, in addition to the 
statements of the sohcitor. And even then decep- 
tion would not be impossible ; for such corroborat- 
ing evidence might be abundantly furnished, and the 
whole be based upon falsehood. 

To another woman he gave a similar amount, but 
under very different circumstances. The incident is 
highly interesting. 

In the early part of his professional career, when he 
was practising law in Portsmouth, one of his clients, 
whom he had conducted successfully through a some- 
what difficult suit, was unable to pay him his fees. 
He therefore insisted upon giving him the deed of a 



} 



27G WEBSTER AND THE OLD LADY. 

certain lot of land in a neighboring county. The 
matter was adjusted by the acceptance of this deed. 
Where the land was, or what was its quality, Mr. 
Webster knew not. After many years had passed i 

away, he had occasion to visit this county. It oc- ,. 

curred to him that perhaps it would be well to look ; 

up the land, and ascertain its condition. He went f 

to work f )r that purpose. He made his inquiries, 
and, after following the directions which were given 
him, he discovered the property. Upon it was an 
old house, built among the rocks, which appeared to 
be inhabited. He knocked at the door, and entered. 
He found it was occupied by an old woman, who, 
hermit-like, lived there all alone. He entered into 
familiar conversation with her, and asked who owned 
the place. She told him that it belonged to a law- 
yer, by the name of Webster ; and she was expect- 
ing every day that he would come and turn her out 
of doors. She little knew the character of that 
Webster. After some further inquiries, he surprised 
the old lady by the announcement that he was law- 
yer Webster, the Dwner of the place, but that she 
need not fear thai he had come to warn her out. 
That was far from his intention. After allaying her 
apprehensions, he sat down at her table, partook of 
such refreshments as the humble hut afforded, and 
then departed, leaving the old lady a donation of 
ffty dollars. 



WEBSTER AND HIS POOR CLIENT. 277 

Ever since then, that rocky spot has been desig- 
nated " Webster's Farm." 

This, however, was not the limit of his donations. 
When occasion required, he gave more largely. 
He was a large-hearfed man. Says Mr. Lanman, 
— " The following well-authenticated fact was re- 
lated to the writer by an eye witness, and is only a 
specimen of many that might be mentioned, tending 
to illustrate the character of Mr. Webster's heart. 
Somewhere about the year 1826, a certain gentleman 
residing in Boston was thrown into almost inextricable 
difficulties by the failure of a house for which he had 
become responsible to a large amount. He needed 
legal advice, and being disheartened, he desired the 
author of this anecdote to go with him and relate his 
condition to Mr. Webster. The lawyer heard the 
story entirely througli, advised his client what to do,, 
and to do it immediately, and requested him to call 
again in a few days. After the gentlemen had left 
Mr. Webster's office, he came hurriedly to the door, 
called upon the gentlemen to stop a moment, and 
having approached them with his pocket book in 
hand, he thus addressed his client : ' It seems to 
me, my good sir, if T understood your case rightly, 
you are entirely naked ; is it so ? ' 

The client replied that he was indeed penniless, 
and then of course expected a demand for a retain- 
ing fee. Instead of that demand, however, Mr. 



278 MR. WEBSTER AND HIS POOR CLIENT. 

Webster kindly remarked, as he handed the chent i 
bill for Jive hundred dollars^ — 

*' ' Well, there, take that ; it is all I have by me 
now. I wish it was more ; and if you are ever able, m 

you must pay it back again.' 

" The client was overcome, and it may be well 
imagined that he has ever since been a ' Webster 
man.' Surely a man who can command the admira- 
tion of the world by the efforts of his gigantic 
intellect, and also possesses the above self-sacrificing 
habit of making friends, must indeed be a great and 
a good man." 

To all intents this was a donation. He knew not 
that the man would ever be in a condition to refund 
the money ; he let him have it subject to that con- 
tingency. It was to be a loan if the man ever had 
the ability to return it ; if otherwise, it was a gift. 

This chapter cannot be more appropriately closed 
than with the following deeply-affecting narrative, 
which is equally illustrative of Mr. Webster's benev- 
olence and piety. Rather than mar the account by 
presenting it in our own language, we give it as it 
appeared in the National Intelhgencer. 

" In answer to some fanatical inputations on Mr. 
Webster's religious principles, because of his support 
of the compromise measures, a widow lady, who 
resided in the vicinity of Mr. W.'s early home, said, — 

** » Mr. Webster an infidel ! I cannot believe that. 



MR. WEBSTER AND THE WIDOW. 279 

I have known liim long, and, if it would not savor 
too much of egotism, I could relate some incidents 
that would, I think, convince jou that, whatever his 
political views may have been, he certainly was not 
an infidel.' 

" She was requested to do so, and accordingly 
wrote the following : — 

*' ' Mr. Webster and my husband became acquaint- 
ed in early life, and the friendship of youth extended 
to riper years. They were truly congenial spirits, 
and sought each other's society as much as possible. 
But the cares of business at length separated them, 
and for many years they seldom met. My husband 
settled down in this place, and Mr. Webster went 
forth to battle for the Tight in the councils of the 
nation. 

" ' For some time we were greatly prospered. A 
lucrative business brought us wealth almost beyond 
our hopes. Two children came like a sunbeam to 
light up our happy home with their joyous smiles, 
and to cheer our spirits with their innocent prattle. 
Those were happy days, and I love to recall them. 
But alas ! the'- were soon covered with clouds of 
darkness, that' ^ven the eye of faith could hardly 
penetrate. 

" ' Some of the firms in which my husband's funds 
were placed became involved, and our little all was 



280 MR. WEBSTER AND THE WIDOW. 

swept from our grasp. When he found that every 
effort to recover it but plunged him deeper into 
difficulty, he became disheartened. Soon his health 
failed, and he was compelled to give up his business 
entirely. He then sold the shop, and what else we 
could spare, and with the avails paid every debt 
except one. This was due to a friend who chose 
to wait for his money rather than take from us the 
cottage where we hved, the only property we could 
then call our own. 

" ' But hardly was the arrangement made w!)en the 
gentleman died, leaving the note in the hands of one 
who knew not how to show mercy. He demanded 
immediate payment, and we were about to sell our 
house when our oldest child was taken down with a 
fever, and soon left us, as we hope, for a better 
world. The same disease prostrated my husband; 
and when the physician told me he must die, I felt 
that my cup of sorrow was full. But no ; I was 
mistaken. 

" ' There was yet another drop to be mingled in 
that cup of bitterness. While my husband yet lin- 
gered between life and death, my da/i* hter, the only 
remaining child, was taken sick alsr*^ and after five 
days' suffering, she too left us, to rjjoin her brother 
in the " spirit land." 

" ' Do you ask how I bore this second bereave- 



MR. WEBSTER AND THE WIDOW. 281 

merit ? I believe I had not leisure to think of '4, 
All my time, all my attention, were given to my 
husband, who was slowly but surely going down to 
the grave. I had even forgotten the hard-hearted 
creditor. But he did not forget. Inexorable as 
death itself, he came at the time appointed, and 
demanded the money. 1 thiidi he must have 
been intoxicated, for 1 am sure no man in his 
sober senses could have been so cruel. I told him 
my husband was dying ; but he replied, " Sorry, 
sorry to hear it. He won't earn any more money, 
and, as you can't pay up, I'll just take the house. 
You can live somewhere else, as you have no one to 
look after." I interrupted his cruel remarks, and, 
thinking to move his feelings, I led him to the room 
where lay the cold form of my child. 

" ' Vain hope ! I might as well have tried to 
move an iceberg. After much entreaty, I obtained 
permission to remain in the house while my loved 
one lived, on condition that I gave up the furniture. 
This I promised, that I might no more be troubled 
with his loathsome presence. 

" ' The man left me, and I sank into a chair, 
uttcrlj* overcome at the prospect of the desolation 
before me. At that moment I heard a rap at the 
door. I coul'v not rise to obey the summons. I 
felt that my hearl was breaking. But the door 



1' 



282 PRAYER AND BENEVOLENCE. 

sjpwly opened, and ]Mr Webster stood before me. 
He had come home on a visit, and, witliout know- 
ing any thing of our sorrows, he rode over to see 
and embrace his early friend. What was his sur- 
prise to. find him thus ! And when the story of our 
troubles had been told, when he had assured himself 
that his long-cherished friend had but a few more 
hours to live, he sat down and wept. 

" ' Then he asked to see the corpse of his little 
pet, who, when he last visited us, sat upon his knee 
and played with his watch. As he rose to leave the 
bed, my husband said in a whisper, " Fetch her to me, 
that I too may look upon her sweet face once more." 

" ' We placed tiie still beautiful form beside the 
bed, and standing near it, gave ourselves up to un- 
controllable o-rief When able to command his 
voice, Mr. W. said, "Let us pray." And kneeling 
there, beside the dying and the dead, he prayed as 
none but a Christian can pray. Sure I am that a 
prayer so earnest, so full of faith and hope in the 
Redeemer, was never poured forth from the lips of 
an infidel. 

" ' Gladly would he have stopped with us through 
the night ; but business forbade his stay. He left 
us, and as he grasped for the last time the hand of | 

his dying friend, those pale feature? 'ere lighted up 
with a smile of hope, such as thc;^ had not worn for 



PRAYER AND BENEVOLENCE. 283 

many a day. The troubled spirit was at rest, for tlje 
assurance had been given that the widow should be 
provided for in her affliction. 

« ' My husband died the next day. I saw no more 
of the hard-hearted creditor, and the house remained 
unsold. I still occupy it, and the room wbere Mr. 
Webster kneeled in prayer is to me a sacrec' place. 



> » 



CHAPTER XVI. ^ 

Mr. Webster never out of Order. — Sin^s with an old Lady. — 
Religious Allusions. — The Bible is "the Book." — Piety of 
his Brother Ezekiel. — An Evening Scene and Scripture Quo- 
tation. — Mr. Webster's Remarks on Job. — He prefers John. — 
Constant in Attendance on Public Worship. — His Opinion 
of Sermonizing. — His Opinion of Prayer. — Mr. Kirk's Ser- 
mon. •— Mr. Webster's Remarks upon it. — Believer in the Atone- 
ment. — Requests Prayer on board a Steamboat. — Influence of 
Prayer. — Ariihmetic of Heaven. — His Religious Views. — 
Pleased with Dr. Watts's Hymns. — Mr. Alden's Eulogy. — 
Recognition of Divine Providence. — Evidences of Christian- 
ity. — Writes the Inscription for his own Monument. — Its 
Importance. 

A QUESTION in vvliich a large portion of the com- 
munity cherish a deep interest is titat which has re- 
spect to the religious opinions and character of our 
most eminent statesmen. That there are any among 
them addicted to profanity, drunkenness, and other 
immoralities, is an occasion of grief and humilia- 
tion. An account of the disgraceful, belligerent 
scenes which have occasionally transpired in Con- '\ 

gress has sent a wave of sadness throughout the 
land. Such occurrences have been deplored both 
publicly and privately. They have furnished topics 
for penitential confession and earnest prayer in the 
services of the sanctuary, and '.'^ (le private devo- 

284 



•i 



Q.UALIFICATIONS FOR OFFICE. 285 

tions of the closet. It will be a fortunate iay for 
our country when immorality of character, or a 
positive disregard for Christianity, shall be sufficient 
to prevent the election of any individual, however 
eminent he may be in other respects, to any office 
of responsibility. In canvassing the quaUfications 
of candidates, the time has come when a higher 
estimate should be placed upon moral requisites. 
We need men of good hearts, as well as strong 
minds. Integrity of character should be the balluidt 
of the ship of state ; and this should be developed 
not only in the laws which are passed, but in those 
who enact and execute them. 

With reference to Mr. Webster, it is stated that 
during his long congressional career, though he was 
frequently placed in circumstances of the most ex- 
citing character, mid was ofttimes the subject of 
personal and irritating allusion, he never departed 
from the proprieties of debate. He ivas never called 
to order. If this rigid adherence to the rules of 
parliamentary decorum had been imitated by others, 
the various scenes of congressional rowdyism which 
have dishonored the halls of our national legislation 
would have been avoided. 

But Mr. Webster was governed by something 
higher than a mere regard to decorum. He knew 
that the character of his country was, in the opinion 
of foreign natior'- implicated in these scenes of 



286 MR. WEBSTER AND AN OLD WOMAN. 

disorder, and that tliey were at variance with that 
spirit of good will towards others which is so prom- 
inent and beautiful an element of Christianity. 
Patriotism and religion combined to guide his 
course. 

His parents, as we have seen, were Christians of 
the Puritan stock. His " excellent mother " in- 
stilled into his mind, from his earliest childhood, 
sentiments of piety. He was, when quite young, 
taught the Catechism and the hymns of Dr. Watts. 
The history and precepts of the Scriptures were 
also impressed upon his mind. He was taught to 
regard the Sabbath and to reverence the institution 
of Christianity. These early influences were not in 
vain. He became hopefully pious, and, when a 
young man, united with the Orthodox Congrega- 
tional Church. He had, even at j^hat time, attained 
to such a reputation, that the following incident, 
comparatively trifling in itself, which occurred then, 
is remembered to the present day. On the occasion 
of his making a public profession of religion, the 
only occupant of the same pew with him was a 
" very poor, and a very old, woman." The service 
was closed with singing. After Mr. Webster had. 
found the hymn, he offered a part of the book to 
the poor woman, and they both sang together from 
the same page — a beautiful symbol of the union 
exist! i)g between the piety of youth and that of age. 



HIS ALLUSIONS TO RELIGION. 287 

Even though their voices might have been discord- 
ant, they were one in spirit. This pleasant incident 
is still a topic of fireside conversation among the 
members of the parish. 

When he delivered his Fourth of July Oration at 
Hanover, during his collegiate course, he took occa- 
sion to express the obligations of the people to cher- 
ish sentiments of thanksgiving towards the Ruler of 
nations for the blessings they enjoyed. His lan- 
guage was as follows : "If piety be the rational 
exercise of the human soul, if rehgion be not a 
chimera, and if the vestiges of heavenly assistance 
are clearly traced in those events which mark the 
annals of our nation, it becofnes us on this day, in 
consideration of the great things which have been 
done for us, to render the tribute of unfeigned 
thanks to that God who superintends the universe, 
and holds aloft the scale that weighs, the destinies 
of nations." 

These sentiments are important. They are wor- 
thy of being incorporated in every oration on our 
national anniversary. We should never forget our 
indebtedness to the Ruler of nations for the political 
freedom with which he has blessed us. The Fourth 
of July ought to be a day of national thanksgiving. 
With our various demonstrations of joy there should 
be mingled feelings of devout gratitude. Of this 



288 HIS LOVE FOR THE BIBLE. 

the youthful orator was convinced, and has earnestly 
expressed it in the quotation we have given. 

Being a firm behever in the divine origin of the 
Scriptures, he has on various occasions expressed 
himself warmly upon the importance of making 
them a subject of study. 

A correspondent of the Commercial Advertiser 
says, — 

" Some years ago we had the pleasure of spend- 
ing several days in company with Mr. Webster at 
the residence of a mutual friend, Harvey Ely, Esq., 
at Rochester. During that intercourse, we had more 
than one opportunity of conversing on religious sub- 
jects — sometimes on doctrinal points, but more gen- 
erally on the importance of the Holy Scriptures, as 
containing the plan of man's salvation, through the 
atonement of Christ. So far as our knowledge of 
the subject extends, Mr Webster was as orthodox as 
any we ever conversed with. 

" On one occasion, when seated in the drawing 
room ^vith 3Ir. and Mrs. Ely, Mr. Webster laid his 
hand on a copy of the Scriptures, saying, with great 
emphasis, ' This is the book ! ' This led to a con- 
versation on the importance of the Scriptures, and 
the too frequent neglect of the study of the Bible by 
gentlemen of the legal profession, their pursuits in 
life leading them to the almost exclusive study of 
works ha\ing reference to their profession. Mr. 



PIETY OF HIS BROTHER. 289 

Webster said, ' I have read through the entire Bible 
many times. I now make a practice to go through 
it once a year. It is the book of all otiiers for law- 
yers as well as for divines ; and I pity the man that 
cannot find in it a rich supply of thought, and of 
rules for his conduct ; it fits man for life — it pre- 
pares him for death.' 

" The conversation then turned upon sudden 
deaths ; and Mr. Webster adverted to the then re- 
cent death of his brother, who expired suddenly at 
Concord, N. IT. ' My brother,' he continued, ' knew 
the importance of Bible truths. The Bible led him 
to prayer, and prayer was his communion with God. 
On the day on which he died, he was engaged in an 
important cause in the court then in session. But this 
cause, important as it was, did not keep him from his 
duty to his God ; he found time for'prayer, for on the 
desk which he had just left w^as found a paper writ- 
ten by him on that day, which for fervent piety, a 
devoted ness to his heavenly Master, and for expres- 
sions of humility, I think was never excelled.' 

" Mr. Webster then mentioned the satisfaction he 
had derived from the preaching of certain clergymen, 
observing that ' men were so constituted, that we 
could not all expect the same spiritual benefit under 
the ministry of the same clergymen.' He regretted 
that there was not more harmony of feeling among 
professors generally, who believed in the great truths 
19 



•290 INTERESTING SCENE. 

of our common Christianity. Difference of opin- 
ion, he admitted, was proper ; but yet, with that 
difference, the main objects should be love to God — 
love to our fellow-creatures. In all Mr. Webster's 
conversations, he maintained true catholicity of 
feeling." 

The editor of the Boston Atlas, as quoted by 
Genera] Lyman, in his Memorials, says, — 

" It was our fortune to pass several days at liis 
home in Marshfield, some six or seven years ago ; 
and well we remember one beautiful night, when the 
heavens seemed to be studded with countless myri- 
ads of stars, that about nine o'clock in the evening, 
we walked out, and he stood beneath the beautiful 
weeping elm which raises its majestic form within a 
few paces of his dwelling, and, looking up through 
the leafy branches, he appeared for several minutes 
to be wrapped in deep thought, and, at length, as if 
the scene, so soft and so beautiful, had suggested 
the lines, he quoted certain verses of the eighth 
Psalm, beginning with the words, ' When I con- 
sider thy heavens, the work of thy fingers, the 
moon and the stars, which thou hast ordained, what 
is man, that thou art mindful of him ? and the son 
of man, that thou visitest him 1 For thou liast made 
him a little lower than the angels, and hast crowned 
him with glory and honor,' «fec. The deep, low ^ 

tone in which he repeated these inspired words, 



HIS REMARKS ON JOB. 291 

and the deep, rapt attention with which he gazed up 
through the branches of the elm, struck us with a 
feeUng of greater awe and solemnity than we ever 
felt, when, a year or two later, we visited some of 
the most magnificent cathedrals of tlie old world, 
venerable with the ivy of centuries, and mellowed 
with the glories of a daily church service for a thou- 
sand years. 

" We remained out beneath the tree for an hour, 
and all the time he conversed about the Scriptures, 
which no man has studied with greater attention, and 
of which no man whom we ever saw knew so much, 
or appeared to understand and appreciate so well. 
He talked of the books of the Old Testament espe- 
cially, and dwelt with unaffected pleasure upon 
Isaiah, the Psalms, and especially the Book of Job. 
The Book of Job, he said, taken as a mere work of 
literary genius, was one of the most wonderful pro- 
ductions of any age, or in any language. As an 
epic poem, he deemed it far superior to either the 
Iliad or Odyssey. The two last, he said, received 
much of their attraction from the mere narration of 
warlike deeds, and from the perilous escape of 
the chief personages from death and slaughter ; but 
the Book of Job was a purely intellectual narra- 
tive. Its power was shown in the dialogue of 
characters introduced. The story was simple in its 
construction, and there was little in it to excite the 



292 HE EXPLAINS THE SCRIPTURES. 

imagination or arouse the sympathy. It was purely 
an intellectual production, and depended upon the 
power of the dialogue, and not upon the interest of 
the story, to produce its effects. This was consid- 
ering it merely as an intellectual work. He read it 
through very often, and always with renewed delight. 
In . his judgment, it was the greatest epic ever 
written. 

" We well remember his quotation of some of the 
verses in the thirty-eighth chapter : ' Then the 
Lord answered Job out of the whirlwind, and said, 
AVho is this tiiat darkeneth counsel by words without 
knowledge ? Gird up now thy loins like a man ; 
for I will demand of thee, and answer thou me, 
Where wast thou, when I laid the foundations of the 
earth ? Declare, if thou hast understanding,' &c. 
Mr. Webster was a fine reader, and his recitation of 
particular passages, to which he felt warm, were 
never surpassed, and were capable of giving the 
most exquisite delight to those who could appreciate 
them." 

With regard to this attachment to the Bible, the 
author of Mr. Webster's Private Life says , — 

" Indeed, he loved and he read that priceless vol- 
ume as it ought to be loved and read ; and he once 
told the w^riter that he could not remember the time 
when he was unable to read a chapter therein. He 
read it aloud to his family on every Sunday morning, 



I 



HIS REVERENCE FOR THE SCRIPTURES. 293 

and often delivered extempore sermons of great 
power and eloquence. He never made a journey 
without carrying a copy with him, and the writer 
would testify that he never listened to the story of 
the Savior, or heard one of the prophecies of Isaiah, 
when it sounded so superbly eloquent as when com- 
ing from his lips. Those admitted to the i^iti- 
macy of his conversation alone can tell of the 
eloquent fervor with which he habitually spoke of 
the inspired writings ; how much light he could 
throw on a difficult text ; how much beauty lend 
to ex])ressions that would escape all but the eye 
of genius ; what new vigor he could give to the 
most earnest thouoht: and what elevation even to 
sublimity. 

" It would be impossible, as C. W. March has 
said, for any one to listen half an hour to one 
of his dissertations on the Scri])tures, and not believe 
in their inspiration or his. And yet, while his 
private conversations and public prpductions attest 
how deeply he was imbued with the spirit of the 
Scriptures, neithe-r the one nor the other ever con- 
tained the slightest irreverent allusion to any passage 
in them, any thing in the way of illustration, anal- 
ogy, or quotation, which would seem to question 
their sanctity. He was scrupulously delicate in this 

ft 

regard, and therein differed widely from most of 
his contemporaries in public life ; as he read and 



294 HTS PREFERENCE FOR JOHN. 

admired the Bible for its eloquence, so did he vener- 
ate it for its sacrediiess." 

At a dinner table at the Revere House, Boston, 
one of the party made a remark upon the poetry of 
the Scriptures. "Ah, my friend," immediately re- 
plied jMr. Webster, " the poetry of Isaiah, and Job, 
an4 Habakkuk is beautiful indeed ; but when you 
reach your sixty-ninth year, you will give more for the 
fourteenth or the seventeenth chapter of John's Gos- 
])el, or for one of the Epistles, than for all the poetry 
of the Bible." 

It may be asked. If Mr. Webster was so deeply 
impressed with the value of the sacred Scriptures, 
why did he never give expression to his views at the 
anniversary of some of the Bible Societies 1 He 
stated in the above interview, that he had declined 
speaking at Bible Societies, " from fear that the mo- 
tives prompting to such a step would be regarded as 
sinister." * He expressed deep regret that he had 
never recorded, his opinion of the word of God in 
some public manner, and intimated a willingness to 
comply, if invited to speak at the anniversary of the 
American Bible Society. But the arrangement was 
never made, owing, probably, to the speedy decease 
of the clergyman to whom the matter was suggested. 

It is reasonable to suppose that one vvho was so 

* Rev. Dr. Choules's Sermon. 



CONSTANTLY ATTENDS CHURCH. 295 

sincerely a lover of the Bible would not be uninter- 
ested in the public services of the sanctuary. The 
folio win o- fact will illustrate Mr. Webster's views 
and practice upon this point : — 

He was accustomed, at one period of his life, to 
spend his months of summer recreation in Dorches- 
ter, Massachusetts. The late Rev. Dr. Codman was 
at that time pastor of the Orthodox Congregational 
Church in that town. At the time he became a res- 
ident of the place, Mr. Webster called upon Dr. 
Codman, " with whom he held similar religious 
opinions," and said to him, — 

" Sir, I. am come to be one of your parishioners." 
Not one of your fashionable ones ; but you will find 
me in my seat both in the morning and in the after- 
noon." 

He is said to have been true to his word. His 
example in this respect furnishes an impressive re- 
buke to those " fashionable " worshippers whose con- 
science and heart are satisfied with a single attend- 
ance upon the public services of the Sabbath. May 
we not see in it, also, the influence of home educa- 
tion 1 Being taught, when a boy, to be in his seat 
on both parts of the day, he continued the practice 
in subsequent years. He did not go there for 
amusement, nor to while away an hour that would 
have otherwise hung heavily on his hands. Indeed, 
any thing in the form of a sermon which furnished 



296 CRITICIZES A SEil3I0N. 

mere intellectual entertain iiieiit seemed to liim out 
of place. 

To Rev. Mr. Alden, of Marslifield, the pastor 
whose ministrations he attended when at home, 
lie said with emphasis, " When I attend the preach- 
ing- of the gospel, I wish it to be made a personal 
matter, A PERSONAL matter, a PERSOINAL 
MATTER." 

On another occasion he expressed his views of 
preaching to a gentleman who afterwards gave them 
to the public in the Congregational Journal, in the 
following article : — 

• " A few evenings since," says this writer, " sitting 
by his own fireside, after a day of severe labor in 
the Supreme Court, Mr. Webster introduced the last 
Sabbath's sermon, and discoursed in animated and 
glowing eloquence for an liour, on the great truths 
of the gospel. I cannot but regard the opinions of 
such a man in some sense as public property. This 
is my apology for attempting to recall some of those 
remarks which were uttered in the privacy of the 
domestic circle. 

" Said Mr. Webster, ' Last Sabbath I listened to 
an able and learned discourse upon the evidences of 
Christianity. The arguments were drawn from 
prophecy, history, with internal evidence. They 
were stated with logical accuracy and force ; but, as 
it seems to me, the clerjrvman failed to draw from 



CRITICIZES A SERMON. 297 

them the right coiichisioii. He came so near the 
truth that I was astonished he missed it. In sum- 
ming up his arguments, he said the only alternative 
presented by these evidences is this: Either Chris- 
tianity is true, or it is a delusion produced by an ex- 
cited imagination. Such is not the alternative,' said 
the critic ; ' but it is this : the gospel is either true 
history, or it is a consummate fraud ; it is either a 
reality or an imposition. Christ was what he pro- 
fessed to be, or he was an impostor. There is no 
other alternative. His spotless life in his earnest 
enforcement of the truth, his suffering in its defence, 
forbids us to suppose that he was suffering an illusion 
of the heated brain. 

" ' Every act of his pure and holy life shows that 
he was the author of truth, the advocate of truth, the 
earnest defender of truth, and the uncomplaining suf- 
ferer for truth. Now, considering the purity of his 
doctrines, the simplicity of his life, and the sublimity 
of his death, is it possible that he would have died for 
an illusion ? In all his preaching the Savior made 
no popular appeals. His discourses were all directed 
to the individual. Christ and his apostles sought to 
impress upon every man the conviction that he 
must stand or fall alone — he must live for himself, 
juid die for himself, and give up his account to the 
omniscient God, as though he were the only de- 
pendent creature in the universe. The gospel 



298 OPINION OF PREACHING. 

leaves the individual sinner alone with himself and 
his God. To his own Master lie stands or falls. 
He has nothing to hope from the aid and sympathy 
of associates. The deluded advocates of new doc- 
trine do not so preach. Christ and his apostles, 
had they been deceivers, would not have so preaclied. 

"'If clergymen in our days would return to the 
simplicity of the gospel, and preach more to indi- 
viduals and less to the crowd, there would not be so 
much complaint of the decline of true religion. 
Many of the ministers of the present day take their 
text from St. Paul, and preach from the newspapers. 
When they do so, I prefer to enjoy my own thoughts 
rather than to hsten. I want my pastor to come to 
me in the spirit of the gospel, saying, "You are 
mortal ! your probation is brief; your work must be 
done speedily. You are immortal, too. You are 
hastening to the bar of God ; the Judge standeth 
before the door." When I am thus admonished, I 
have no disposition to muse or to sleep. These 
topics,' said Mr. Webster, ' have often occupied my 
thousrhts : and if I had time I would write on them 
myself.' • 

" The above remarks are but a meagre and im- 
perfect abstract, from memory, of one of the most 
eloquent sermons to which I ever listened." 

These are the true, common-sense views to be 
taken of the subject. It will be a most desirable 



i 




A CHANGE NEEDED. 299 

change in public opinion when these views become 
popular. There are many to whom no preaching is 
so interesting as that which indulges in all kinds of 
flowery and imaginative description of scenes, cir- 
cumstances, and characters, but which leaves the 
conscience unaddressed. To hold the mirror of 
divine truth before them, and show them the moral 
deformities of their character, is to perform a most 
unwelcome service. But instead of censuring them- 
selves, and striving for amendment, they make the 
preacher the subject of their complaints, or else find 
fault with the truth he utters. Probation, mortality, 
and eternity are themes too sombre for the contem- 
plation of such. They take no pleasure in them. 
How widely different was it with Mr. Webster ! " I 
want my pastor to come to me in the spirit of the 
gospel, saying, 'You are mortal! your probation is 
brief; your work must be done speedily. You are 
immortal^ too. You are hastening to the bar of 
God ; the Judge standeth at the door.' " A great 
mind wants great themes for its contemplation. No 
wonder that he added, " These topics have often 
occupied my thoughts." ; 

Reader, permit them to occupy your thouglits. 
You can dwell upon nothing invested with more 
profound interest. In comparison with these, all 
other subjects dwindle into insignificance. Your 
present life is brief. Yet for all your conduct here 



300 WEBSTER S OPINION OF PRAYER. 

you are accountable at the tribunal of your Maker. 
It is appointed unto men once to die, and after that 
the judgment. Tlien will follow your immortality, 
the character of which will dej^end upon the course 
of life which you have followed here. IIow ex- 
plicit is the language of revelation! — "Be not de- 
ceived; God is not mocked. Whatsoever a man 
soweth, that shall he also reap. He that soweth to 
the flesh shall of the flesh reap corruption. He 
that soweth to the spirit shall of the spirit reap life 
everlasting." Let the young especially remember 
that this life is their seedtime ; that the harvest will 
be reaped in another world, and the nature of that 
harvest will depend upon the character of the seed 
sown here. 

Being a believer in the Bible, Mr. Webster was 
convinced of the efficacy of prayer. The last time 
he attended church, this was the subject of discourse. 
It was delivered by that warm-hearted, earnest 
preacher, and indefatigable laborer in the vineyard 
of Christ, Rev. E. N. Kirk, of Boston. 

Hearing that this gentleman was to preach in 
Duxbury, a few miles from Marshfield, Mr. W., with 
some of his guests, rode over to hear him. Mr. 
Charles Lanman, who was one of the number, has 
given the following account of the circumstance, with 
some additional remarks, of which we gladly avail 
ourselves, coming as they do from one who was 



i 



i 



HEARS A SERMON ON PRAYER. 301 

favored with the enjoyment of a close personal 
intimacy with the great statesman. 

" The last time that he ever attended chiirch, it 
was my rare fortune to be his companion. He had 
been informed that the Rev. E. N. Kirk, of Boston, 
was expected to preach in Duxbury, some three, 
miles from Marshfield; and packing off his guests 
and a part of his household in a couple of carriages, 
he reserved a gig for himself, and in this did we 
attend. The sermon was on the efficacy of prayer, 
and was distinguished not only for its eloquence, but 
for its powerful arguments. It dealt in nothing but 
pure Bible doctrines, as understood by the orthodox 
church. Mr. Webster listened with marked atten- 
tion to the whole discourse, and, after the services 
were closed, went up and congratulated the preacher. 
On our return home, his conversation turned upon 
the sermon, and he said it was a remarkable, a 
great effi)rt. He said tlie arguments adduced were 
unanswerable, and that if a man would only live ac- 
cording to the lessons of such preaching, he would 
be a happy man both in this world and the world to 
come. He said, moreover, ' There is not a single 
sentiment in that discourse with which I do not fully 
concur.' And this remark, when appended, as it 
ought to be, to the sermon when hereafter published, 
will serve to convince the world that liis views of 
religion were most substantial and satisfactory. 



30^ RELIGIOUS OPINIONS. 

During the wliole of our ride home, he conversed 
upon matters contained in or suggested by the 
discourse ; and I deeply regret that I did not take 
more ample notes of what he said on the occasion. 
Tlie distinct impression left upon my mind, however, 
•was, that if he were not a genuine Christian, the 
promises of the Bible were all a fable; and God 
knows that 1 would rather die than, for a moment, 
even imagine such a state *of things. 

" He was a believer in the great atonement ; and 
though, living as he did in a sphere of peculiar temp- 
tations, he may have committed errors, lie needed no 
promptings to lead him to a speedy repentance. He 
was actuated by a spirit of charity which knew no 
bounds. He treasured no animosities to his fellow- 
men, and when once wronged by those in whom he 
had confided with all the guilelessness of a child, he 
did not retaliate, but simply moved in another sphere 
beyond their reach. He was a student of the Bible, 
and read it habitually in his family whenever the 
annoyances of his official position did not prevent ; 
and never sat down, wlien with his family alone, to 
enjoy the bounties of his table, without first implor- 
ing a blessing. No man ever thought or talked with 
more reverence of the power and holiness of God. 
He came of a race of good men ; was baptized into, 
and became a member, in his college days, of the 
Congregational church, but died in the communion 



SCENE IN A STATE ROOM. 303 

of the Protestant Episcopal Church, of which he 
was a devout member ; and one of the most im- 
pressive scenes that I ever witnessed, going to prove 
the matchless beauty of our religion, was to see him, 
in full view of the Capitol, the principal theatre of 
his exploits, upon his knees before the altar, partak- 
ing of the sacrament of the Lord's supper. That 
spectacle, and the grandeur of his death, are to me 
more eloquent than a thousand sermons from human 
hps." 

The sermon alluded to, preached by Blr. Kirk, 
will ever be interesting, not only on account of 
its intrinsic merits, but as being the last which 
Mr. Webster ever heard, and as drawing from 
him the sentiments he then uttered. 

He was a believer in the efficacy and the obliga- 
tion of prayer. He has given the whole weight of 
his influence to sanction a practice which not a few 
affect to despise. 

" Many years ago," says Rev. Dr. Choules, 
" 1834, in passing through the Sound, we occupied 
the captain's state room. At night Mr. Webster took 
up my Bible and read the twenty-third Psalm, and 
then made some fine remarks upon the character of 
David, observing that the varied experience of 
David as a shepherd boy, a Ring, victorious and 
vanquished, had made him acquainted with all 
the diversified feelinors of human nature, and had 



304 REASONABLENESS OF PRAYER. 

thus qualified him to be tlie chorister of the church 
in all future ages. After this, he asked me to com- 
mend ourselves to God, remarking that none needed 
prayer more than ' the wayfaring man.' " 

" How absurd," says one, " to imagine that our 
poor requests receive any attention from the Sov- 
ereign of the universe, or secure any benefit to our- 
selves !" " How superstitious," says another, " to with- 
draw to some place of retirement, and there pretend 
to talk to some unseen God ! " The spirit of such 
harmonizes with certain ones of old, who impiously 
said, " It is vain to serve God," and " What is the 
Ahiiighty, that we should serve him ? and what profit 
should we have if we pray unto him 1 " 

Not so thought Mr. Webster. If his opinion on 
other subjects be valuable, it is certainly not worth- 
less on this. He was a believer in the importance 
of prayer, and performed the duty with more or less 
frequency. 

And why should not you, my young reader ? The 
Bible enjoins the duty with great frequency. It 
promises that it shall not be performed in vain. 
Various interesting instances are given when prayer 
was answered. How reasonable is it that feeble 
creatures like ourselves should, in this way, manifest 
our dependence upon that great and good Being 
who called us into existence, and who supplies our 
daily wants Even if it were not true that prayer is 



■i 



REASONABLENESS OF PRAYER. 305 

answered, its reflex influence upon the worshipper's 
mind and heart would justify its performance. To 
draw voluntarily near to God ; to hold, in the exercise 
of faith, converse with him ; to acknowledge our 
weaknesses ; to confess our sins ; to render thanksgiv- 
ing- for the innumerable blessings we have received, 
and earnestly to implore more, — all this has a 
tendency to deepen within us feelings of humility, 
penitence, gratitude, and devotion. It makes us 
more sensible of our weakness and our dependence 
upon Him who is the object of our prayers. 

In respect to his religious sentiments, in addition 
to what Mr. Lanman has said. Rev. Mr. Kirk, in his 
sermon on the death of Mr. Webster, entitled 
Great Men are God's Gift, uses the following 
language : — 

"Having noticed that on several occasions gen- 
tlemen have endeavored to show that his religious 
views were not definite, but indefinite, or, as some 
would term it, liberal, I would here mention an an- 
ecdote, which, from his own lips, I am authorized to 
say is authentic. Being asked by a Unitarian gentle- 
man, as he was coming out of an Episcopal church 
in this city, whether he believed that three and one 
are the same thing, he replied in a manner perfectly 
characteristic, as it properly disposes of the real 
difliculty of the Trinity, ' Sir, I believe you and I 
do not understand the arithmetic of heaven.' " 
20 



306 HIS OPIxMON OF EDWARDS. 

Ill fiirtlier illustration of his religious sentiments, 
we mention the following incident, as related by 
Rev. Dr. Choules, in his sermon on Mr. Webster's 
death : — 

" That evening I asked Mr. Webster if his religions 
views were those of the Orthodox Congregational- 
ists, with whom I had heard that he united in early 
life. ' Yes,' he said, ' he thought that he had never 
changed his religious opinions ; that he regarded 
Jonathan Edwards as being as nearly the stamp of 
truth as any mere human writer. He spoke of his 
History of Redemption as having greatly interested 
him, and added, ' But I prefer to find truth as it is 
conveyed to us in the word, without system, yet so 
clear and lucid.' In regard to the atonement, he 
expressed the most abiding confidence, observing 
that it seemed to him the great peculiarity of the 
gospel, to deny which, was to reduce it to a level with 
other systems of religion. He observed that he had 
' no taste fi)r metaphysical refinement in theology, 
and preferred plain statements of truth.' He 
thought the pulpit had much to answer for in pro- 
ducing differences of opinion among Christians, and 
expressed his belief that the best and safest way to 
oppose all sorts of error was the plain enunciation 
of the truth. In this conversation I was much im- 
pressed with the remark, ' I take the Bible to be in- 
spired, and it must not be treated as though it mere 



HIS LOVE FOR WATTS's HYMNS. 307 

ly contained a revelation ; it is a revelation. Yqu 
ministers make a great mistake in not dwelling more 
upon the great facts of Cliristianity ; they are the 
foundations of the system, and there is a power con- 
nected with their statement ; it seems to me that 
Peter and Paul understood this. Plain preaching 
is what we all want, and as much illustration as you 
can bring up. I once heard Dr. Beecher, in Hano- 
ver Street, Boston, talk for an hour on God's law, 
in its application to the heart and life ; he did it in 
my idea of good preaching.' " 

Mr. Webster was particularly pleased with those 
psalms and hymns by Dr. Watts which dwelt upon 
the atonement and salvation by faith in Christ. He 
reo-retted the modern alteration in some of them, by 
which, lie said, their classic beauty, not less than 
their devotional character, has suffered. The hymn 
now commencing, — 

" Here at thy cross, my dying Lord," &c., 
lie would have read, as in the original, — 
" Here at thy cross, my dying- God," &c. 

The beautiful hymn on the Christian Sabbath, 
dosing with the stanza, as now altered, — 

*' My willing soul would stay 
In such a frame as this, 
Till called to rise and soar away 
To everlasting bliss,'' — 



1/ 



308 HIS pastor's testimony. 

he would have, as Watts wrote it, — 

" My willing soul would stay 
In such a frame as this, 
And sit and sing herself away 
To everlasting bliss ; " 

the last two lines having a fine (.lassie allusion to the 
swan, thus indicating, more effectively, the devotional 
spirit. He often repeated the fifty-first psalm, and 
referred particularly to the stanza, — 

•' No blood of beasts, nor heifers slain, 
For sin could e'er atone. 
The blood of Christ must still remain, 
Sufficient and alone." 

Rev. Mr. Alden, the minister of Marshfield, in his 
address at Mr. '^Vebster's funeral, said, — 

" Those who were present upon the morning of 
that Sabbath upon which tliis head of a family con- 
ducted the worship of his household will never for- 
get, as he read from our Lord's Sermon on the 
Mount, the eniphasis which he alone was capable of 
giving to that passage which speaks of the divine 
nature of forgiveness. They saw beaming from 
that eye, now closed in death, the spirit of Him who 
first uttered that godlike sentiment. 

" And he who, by the direction of the dying man, 
upon a subsequent morning of the day of rest, read 
in their connection these words, ' Lord, I believe ; 
help thou my unbelief; ' and then the closing chap- 



PREPARATION FOR DEATH. 309 

ter of our Savior's last words to his disciples, being 
particularly requested to dwell upon this clause of 
the verse, ' Holy Father, keep through thine own 
name those whom thou hast given me, that they may 
be one, as we are,' beheld a sublime illustration of 
the indwelling and abiding power of Christian faith. 

"And if these tender remembrances only cause 
our tears to flow more freely, it may not be improper 
for us to present the example of the father, when 
his great iieart was rent by the loss of a daughter 
whom he most dearly loved. Those present on that 
occasion well remember, when the struggle of mortal 
agony was over, retiring from the presence of the 
dead, bowing together before the presence of God, 
and joining with the afflicted father as he poured 
forth his soul, pleading for grace and strength from 
on high. 

" As upon the morning of his death we conversed 
upon the evident fact that, for the last few weeks, 
his mind had been engaged in preparation for an 
exchange of worlds, one who knew him well re- 
marked, ' His whole life has been that preparation.' 
The people of this rural neighborhood, among whom 
he spent the last twenty years of his life, among 
whom he died, and with whom he is to rest, have 
been accustomed to reoard him with mino'led ven- 
eration and love. Those who knew him best can 
the most truly appreciate the lessons both from his 



310 REVERENCE FOR THE SUPREME BEING. 

lips and example, teaching the sustaining power of 
the gospel. 

" A mind like Mr. Webster's, active, thouglitful, 
penetrating, sedate, could not but meditate deeply 
on the condition of man below, and feel its respon- 
sibilities. He could not look on this mighty sys- 
tem, — 

' This universal frame, thus wondrous fair/ 

without feeling that it was created and upheld 
by an Intelligence to which all other intelligence 
must be responsible. I am bound to say that 
in the course of my life I never met with an in- 
dividual, in any profession or condition, who al- 
ways spoke and always thought with such awful 
reverence of the power and presence of God. 
No irreverence, no lightness, even no too familiar 
allusion to God and his attributes ever escaped his 
lips. The very notion of a Supreme Being was, 
with him, made up of awe and solemnity. It filled 
the whole of his great mind with the strongest emo- 
tions. A man like him, with all his proper senti- 
ments and sensibilities alive in him, must, in this 
state of existence, have something to believe, and 
something to hope for ; of else, as life is advancing 
to its close, all is heart-sinking and oppression. De- 
pend upon it, whatever may be the mind of an old 
man, old age is only really happy when, on feeling 



RECOGNITION OF DIVINE PROVIDENCE. 311 

the enjoyments of this worhl pass away, it begins to 
lay a stronger hohl on the reahties of another. 

" Mr. Webster's reli<iious sentiments and feehngs 
were tlie crowning glories of his character." 

The Hon. Mr. Barstow, mayor of Providence, 
when alluding to the demise of Mr. Webster, related 
the following interesting facts : — 

"He also recognized God in his providence. 
Who does not remember, after the sad catastrophe 
of the steamer Atlantic, of his rising in his seat in 
the American Senate, and recording there three 
providential deliverances from impending death ? 
The first I have forgotten. The second was on the 
occasion of the loss of the Lexington. He was in 
New York, and had engaged passage home in her, 
and, if I mistake not, went to the boat, but was led, 
for some cause which then appeared slight, to change 
his mind. He went back to his hotel, and his life 
was saved. The third was on that fatal thanksgiv- 
ing eve when the Atlantic was lost. He was on his 
way to Washington, and had taken passage in her 
at Norwich. When the boat touched at New Lon- 
don, he deemed it unwise to proceed in such a gale. 
'But,' it was rephed, 'the boat is new and stanch, 
and never has stopped for wind or weather ; it is the 
storm line.' He went on shore, and in one half 
hour an event occurred which left that strong boat 
to the mercv of the wind and waves, and sent 



312 giuard's will. 

moiirninj? throuo-h the land. He did not ascribe 
these deliverances to accident, luck, fortune, chance, 
but to the good providence of God, who suffers not 
the sparrow to fall to the ground without his notice." 

It will be appropriate, in this connection, to give 
some extracts from an important plea of Mr. Web- 
ster, in which he has expressed more fully his sen- 
timents upon Christianity. 

Mr. Stephen Girard, in his devise for the endow- 
meiit of Girard College, Philadelphia, imposed, 
amonu: others, the following restriction: — 

" I enjoin and require, that no ecclesiastic, mis- 
sionary, or minister of any sect whatever, shall ever 
hold or exercise any station or duty whatever in the 
said college ; nor shall any such person ever be ad- 
mitted for any purpose, or as a visitor, witiiin the 
premises appropriated to the purposes of the said 
college." 

The heirs at law were desirous of breaking the 
will of Mr. Girard, and for this purpose suit was in- 
stituted in the District Court of the Eastern District 
of Pennsylvania, where the decision was against 
them. The case was then carried to the Supreme 
Court of the United Utates, where Mr. Webster de- 
livered this speech, February 20, 1844. After giving 
his testimony in favor of the exalted character and 
deep-toned piety of the American clergy, and speak- 
ing of the wrong done by excluding them from 






MR. Webster's plea. 313 

privileges granted even to the basest of men, he 
proceeds to say, — 

" In the next place, this scheme of education is 
derogatory to Christianity, because it proceeds upon 
the presumption that the Christian religion is not the 
only true foundation, or any necessary foundation, 
of morals. The ground taken is, that religion is 
not necessary to morality; that benevolence may be 
insured by habit ; and that all the virtues may flour- 
ish, and be safely left to the chance of flourishing, 
without touching the waters of the living spring of 
religious responsibility. With him who thinks thus, 
what can be the value of the Christian revelation ? 
So the Christian world has not thought ; for by that 
Christian world, throughout its broadest extent, it 
has been, and is, held as a fundamental truth, that 
religion is the only solid basis of morals, and that 
moral instruction not resting on this basis is only a 
building upon sand. And at what age of the Chris- 
tian era have those who profess to teach the Chris- 
tian religion, or to believe in its authority and im- 
portance, not insisted on the absolute necessity of 
inculcating its principles and its precepts upon the 
minds of the young 1 In what age, by what sect, 
where, when, by whom, has religious truth been ex- 
cluded from the education of youth ? Nowhere — 
never. Every where, and at all times, it has been, 
and is, regarded as essential, it is the essence, the 



314 THE DECALOGUE. 

vitality, of useful instruction. From all this Mr. 
Girard dissents. His plan denies the necessity and 
the propriety of religious instruction as a part of the 
education of youth. He dissents, not only from all 
tlie sentiments of Christian mankind, from all 
common conviction, and from the results of all ex- 
perience, but he dissents also from still higher au- 
thority — the word of God itself. My learned 
friend has referred, with propriety, to one of the 
commands of the decalogue ; but there is another, a 
first commandment, and that is a precept of religion ; 
and it is in subordination to this, that the moral pre- 
cepts of the decalogue are proclaimed. This first 
great commandment teaches man that there is one, 
and only one, great First Cause ; one, and only one, 
proper object of human worship. This is the great, 
the ever-fresh, the overflowing fountain of all re- 
vealed truth. Without it, human life is a desert, of 
no known termination on any side, but shut in on 
all sides by a dark and impenetrable horizon. 
Without the light of this truth, man knows nothing 
of his origin, and nothing of his end. And when 
the decalogue v/as delivered to the Jews, with this 
srreat announcement and command at its head, what 
said the inspired lawgiver 1 That it should be 
reserved as a communication fit only for mature 
aoe ? Far, far otherwise. ' And these words, which 
I command thee this day, shall be in thy heart ; and 



RELIGIOUS INSTRUCTION OF YOUTH. 315 

thou shalt teach them diligently unto thy children, 
and shalt talk of them when thou sittest in thy house, 
and when thou walkest by the way, when tliou 
liest down, and when thou risest up.' 

" There is an authority still more imposing and 
awful. When little children were brought into the 
presence of the Son of God, his disciples proposed 
to send them away ; but he said, ' Suffer little 
children to come unto me.' Unto me ! He did not 
send them first for lessons in morals to the schools 
of the Pharisees, or to the unbelieving Sadducees, 
nor to read the precepts and lessons pliylactericd on 
the garments of the Jewish priesthood ; he said 
nothing of different creeds or clashing doctrines ; 
but he opened at once to the youthful mind the ever- 
lasting fountain of living waters, the only source of 
eternal truths. ' Suffer little children to come unto 
me.'' And that injunction is of perpetual obligation. 
It addresses itself to-day with the same earnestness 
and the same authority which attended its first 
utterance to the Christian world. It is of force 
every where, and at all times. It extends to the 
ends of the earth, it will reach to the end of time, 
always and every where sounding in the ears of 
men, with an emphasis which no repetition can 
weaken, and with an authority which nothing 
can supersede. ' Suffer little children to come 
unto me.' 



816 EVIDENCES OF CHRISTIANITY. 

"And not only my heart and my judgment, my 
belief and my conscience, instruct me that this great 
precept should be obeyed, but the idea is so sacred, 
the solemn thoughts connected with it so crowd upon 
me, it is so utterly at variance with this system ot' 
philosophical moraliti/ which we have heard advo- 
cated, that I stand and speak here in fear of being 
influenced by my feehngs to exceed the proper line 
of my professional duties. Go thy way at this time, 
is the language of philosophical morality, and I will 
send for thee at a more convenient season. This is 
the lanouaoe of Mr. Girard in his will. In this 
there is neither religion nor reason." 

It had been Mr. Webster's desire to prepare a 
work on the evidences of Christianity ; but the press- 
m-e of public duties prevented. During his last ill- 
ness at Marshfield, when this subject was made a 
topic of conversation, and knowing his inability to 
accomplish it, he resolved to leave, as a substitute, an 
epitaph to be engraven upon his monument, contain- 
ing an unequivocal expression of his confidence in 
the reliffion of Christ. This was done on Sabbath 
evening, October 10, 1852. He requested a friend 
who was then with him to read the ninth chapter of 
the Gospel by Mark, in which occurs that interesting 
narrative of a parent bringing his afflicted son to Jesus 
to be healed, to whom the Savior said, " If thou 
canst beheve, all things are possible to him that 



MR. Webster's epitaph. 31 T 

believeth. And straightway the father of the child 
cried out, and said with tears, Lord, I beUeve ; help 
thou mine unbehef. " He then desired to hear 
another passage, commencing John x. 42 — " And 
many believed on him there." Both of these por- 
tions of Scripture contain instances of faith in 
Christ. After the reading of them was finished, he 
dictated a few sentences, which, after correction, 
were left as follows : — 

Sortr, £ Ijclfcbc; ])cip ti}ou mine unbcUcf. 

Philosophical 
Argument, especially 
that drawn from the Vastness of 
the Universe, iu Comparison with the 
apparent Insignificance of this Globe, has some- 
times shaken my Reason for the Faith which is in me ; 
but my Heart has always assured and reassured me that the 
Gospel of Jesus Christ must be a Divine Reality. The 
Sermon on the Mount cannot be a merely human 
Production. This Belief enters into the 
very Depth of my Conscience. 
The whole History of Man 
Proves it. 

Daniel Webster. 

This he requested should be dated, and subscribed 
with his name. After this he added, " This is the 
inscription to be placed on my monument." 

In further conversation he remarked, " If I get 
well, and write a book on Christianity, about which 



I 



CHAPTER XYII. 

Mr. Wsbster's Health fails. — He retires to Marslificld. — His 
Strength decreases. — Signs his Will. — Returns Thanks. — En- 
courages Dr. Jeffries. — His Prediction. — It is fulfilled. — Ar- 
ranges for the Express. — Gives Instructions respecting his Af- 
fairs. — His last Interview with his Family. — Peter Harvey. — 
24th of October. — Gray's Elegy. — Calls in his Servants.— 
The Valley. — His Death. — Poetry. 

Having narrated some of the principal incidents 
in the life of Mr. Webster, and indulged in a few 
reflections which they naturally suggested, we come 
now to the closing scenes of his earthly career. 

During the summer of 1852, his health failed, and 
he retired to his mansion at Marshfield, to obtain 
soiTie respite from the heavy pressure of his respon- 
sible public duties. 

Here every thing was done which affectionate so- 
licitude and medical experience could suggest to ar- 
rest his disease, but without avail. It was painfully 
evident that his constitution was gradually yielding 
to its power. Of this no one was more fully con- 
vinced than Mr. Webster himself. 

Finding his strength was constantly diminishing, 
and being impressed with the belief that his Ufe was 

320 



LAST SICKNESS. 321 

hastening towards its termination, he made a final 
disposition of all temporal affairs. 

On the evening of the 19th of October, he occu- 
pied for the last time his usual seat at his own fire- 
side. After his will was prepared, which he had 
drawn up himself with great care and minuteness, 
he had it laid aside, with the intention of delaying a 
little before affixing to it his signature ; but being 
convinced that he could survive but a short time, he 
had that important document brought to him, and 
in the presence of his friends he signed it in a larger 
and bolder manner than usual. He then folded his 
Kands together, and in an impressive manner said, 
" I thank God for strength to perform a sensible 
act." After which he engaged in a most devout man- 
ner in audible prayer for several minutes, closing 
the exercise with the Lord's prayer, and the inscrip- 
.tion, "And now unto God the Father, Son, and 
Holy Ghost be praise forevermore. Peace on earth, 
and good will to men. That is the happiness," he 
continued with great emphasis, clasping his hands 
together as before — " that is the happiness — the 
essence — good will towards men." 

He now requested all but Dr. .Teffries and the 

nurse to leave the room, that he might, if possible, 

get a little repose. But before going to sleep, he 

said, " Doctor, you look sober ; you think I shall 

21 



I 



322 HIS PREDICTION. 

not be liere in the morning, but I shall. I shall 
greet the morning light." 

His prediction was fulfilled. He did behold the 
morninjr hiiht. Durins^ the forenoon he said to 
the physician, who, he thouglit, appeared sad, 
" Cheer up, doctor ; I shall not die to-day. You 
will get me along to-day.'''' And so he did. But the 
next morning, conscious that his disease had in- 
creased in severity, and that he could not endure it 
long, he said to his physician in a distinct voice, and 
v/ith great seriousness, " Doctor, vou have carried 
me through the night. I think you will get me 
through the day. I shall die to-night'' To which, 
after a brief pause, the physician replied, " You 
are right, sir." Mr. Webster then added, " I wish 
vou, therefore, to send an express to Boston for 
some younger person to be with you. I shall die to- 
night! You are exhausted, and must be relieved. 
Who shall it be ?" 

The doctor mentioned the name of Dr. J. Mason 
Warren. " Let him be sent for." 

When Dr. Jeffries returned from another room, 
wh.ere he had gone, after the above conversation, to 
prepare a note to send to Boston, he found that 
during his absence Mr. Webster had made all the 
necessary arrangements to send it, even designating 
the person, the horse, and the vehicle that should go, 
the route to be pursued, where a fresh \orse should be 



HIS CALMNESS. 323 

■ 

taken, and in what manner the errand should be ex- 
ecuted in the city. He also suggested the propriety 
of mentioning some other physician, in case Dr. 
Warren could not be obtained. When told that this 
contingency was provided for, he added, "Right, 
riirht." 

After obtaining a little rest, he conversed with his 
wife and son, and with a few others who were 
" nearest and dearest to him in life, in the most af- 
fectionate and tender maimer, not conceaUng from 
them his view of the approach of death, but consol- 
ing them with religious thoughts and assurances, as 
if support were more needful for their hearts than 
for his own. On different occasions, in the course 
of the day, he prayed audibly. Oftener he seemed 
to be in silent prayer and meditation. But, at all 
times, he was quickly attentive to whatever was 
doinir or needed to be done. He gave detailed 
orders for the adjustment of whatever in his affairs 
required it, and superintended and arranged every 
thing for his own departure from life, as if it had 
been that of another person, for whom it was his 
duty to take the minutest care." 

When informed that his last hour was approach- 
ing, he received the announcement with composure, 
and expressed a wish to see the female members of 
his family. In compliance with his r^ quest, Mrs. 
Webster, Mrs. Fletcher Webster, Mrs. J. W. Paige, 



324 HIS LAST INTERVIEWS. 

and Miss Downs, of New York, entered the room. 
He called each of them by name, and addressed to 
them individnally a brief farewell, accoiii])anied with 
a few words of relimous consolation. It was a 
deeply-affecting scene. Whilst these beloved mem- 
bers of his family were around his couch bathed in 
,*ears, he over whose departure they were weeping f 

was calm, and bv the utterance of relisjious truth 
was endeavoring to impart relief — the dying admin- 
isterino^ comfort to the living. 

He next had the male members of his family, and 
the personal friends who were there, called in, viz., 
" Fletcher Webster, (his only surviving son,) Sam- 
uel A. Appleton, (his son-in-law,) J. W. Paige, 
George T. Curtis, Edward Curtis, of New York, 
Peter Harvey and Charles Henry Thomas, of 
Marshfield, and Messrs. George J. Abbott, and W. 
C. Zantzinger, both of the state department at 
Washington. Addressing each byname, he referred 
to his past relations with them respectively, and, one 
by one, bade them an affectionate farewell. This 
was about half past six. 

" He now had Mr. Peter Harvey called in again, 
and said to him, * Harvey, I am not so sick but that 
I know you — I am well enough to know you. I 
am well enough to love you, and well enough to call 
down the richest of Heaven's blessings upon you 
and yours. Harvey, don't leave me till T am dead 




DEATH SCENE OF MK. WEBSTER. 



gray's elegy. J^5 

— don't leave Marshfield till I am a dead man.* 
Then, as if speaking to himself, he said, * On the 
24th of October, all that is mortal of Daniel Web- 
ster will be no more.' 

«« He now prayed in his natural usual voice — 
strong, full, and clear, ending with, * Heavenly Fa- 
ther, forgive my sins, and receive me to thyself, 
through Christ Jesus.' 

"Between ten and eleven o'clock, he repeated 
somewhat indistinctly the words, ' Poet, poetry. Gray, 
Gray.' Mr. Fletcher Webster repeated the first 
line of the elegy, — 

< The curfew tolls the knell of parting day.' 

* That's it, that's it,' said Mr. Webster ; and the book 
was brought, and some stanzas read to him, which 
seemed to give him pleasure." 

At another time he was heard to say, " This day 
I shall be in Ufe, in glory, in blessedness." 

He did not deem it beneath him to remember his 
servants, most of whom had been for many years in 
his service, " and had become to him as affectionate 
and faithful friends." These also were called into 
his chamber, to each of whom he addressed a few 
kind words, and left vrith them his dying blessing. 

From the time that he had announced to his phy- 
sician that «' he should die that night," he seemed to 
be solicitous to recognize his advance towards the 



326 THE SHADOW OF DEATH. 

dark valley, and especially to know when he was 
actually entering it. 

" Once, being faint, he asked if he were not then 
dying 1 and on being answered that he was not, 
but that he was near to death, he replied simply, 
* Well ; ' as if the frank and exact reply were what 
he had desired to receive. A httle later, when his 
kind physician repeated to him that striking text of 
Scripture, 'Yea, though I walk through the valley 
of the shadow of death, I will fear no evil, for thou 
art with me ; thy rod and thy staff, they comfort me,' 
he seemed less satisfied, and said, » Yes ; but the 
fact, the fact I want ; ' desiring to know if he were 
to regard these words as an intimation that he was 
already within that dark valley. On another occa- 
sion, he inquired whether it were hkely that he 
should again eject blood from his stomach before 
death, and, being told that it was improbable, he 
asked, ' Then icJiat shall you do ? ' Being answered 
that he would be supported by stimulants, and ren- 
dered as easy as possible by the opiates that had 
suited him so well, he inquired, at once, if the stim- 
ulant should not be given immediately ; anxious again 
to know if the hand of death were not already upon 
him. And on being told that it would not be then 
given, he replied, ' When you give it to me, I shall 
know that I may drop off at once.' 

« Being satisfied on this point, and that he should, 



HIS TRANQUIL DEATH. 327 

therefore, have a final wa^'ning, he said a moment 
afterwards, ' I will, then, put myself in a position to 
obtain a little repose.' In this he was successful. 
He had intervals of rest to the last ; but on rousing 
from them, he showed that he was still intensely anx- 
ious to preserve his consciousness, and to watch for 
the moment and act of his departure, so as to com- 
prehend it. Awaking from one of these slumbers 
late in the night, he asked distinctly if he were alive ; 
and on being assured that he was, and that his fam- 
ily was collected around his bed, he said, in a per- 
fectly natural tone, as if assenting to what had been 
told him, because he himself perceived that it was 
true, ' I still live.' These were his last coherent and 
intelligible words. At twenty-three minutes before 
three o'clock, without a struggle or a groan, all signs 
of Hfe ceased to be visible ; his vital organs giving 
way at last so slowly and gradually as to indicate — 
what every thing during his illness had already 
shown — that liis intellectual and moral faculties still 
maintained an extraordinary mastery amidst the fail- 
ing resources of his physical constitution." 

« < Still 1 Live.' — The flesh was faihng ; 

All in vain the healer's skill ; 
Light in that deep eye was paling, 

And the mighty heart grew still j 
Yet the soul, its God adoring, 

Clad in armor firm and bright, 
O'er the body's ruin soaring. 

Mingled with the Infinite. 



328 . *♦ I STILL LIVE." 

Where he sleeps, that man of glory, 

Marshfield's mournful shades can say, 
And his ^weeping country's story 

Darkened on that funeral day j 
But the love that deepest listened 

Caught such balm as heaven can give ; 
For an angel's pinion glistened 

At the echo, ' Still I Live.' " l. h. s. 



CHAPTER XVIII. 

Funeral of Mr. Webster at Marshfield. — Appearance of his Re- 
mains. — He is borne to the Grave by his Neighbors. — Boston 
m Mourning. — Impressive Arrangements. — Business Suspend- 
ed. — Appropriate Mottoes. — Funeral Obsequies in Boston on 
the 30th of November. — Address of Mr. Hillard. — Closing 
Quotation. 

The funeral of Mr. Webster took place at Marsh- 
field, on Friday, October 29, 1852. Large num- 
bers of persons, of all sects and parties, from various 
parts of the commonwealth, were gathered there to 
testify their respect for the honored dead. Accord- 
ing to his own request, every thing was arranged with 
the greatest simplicity possible for so public an 
occasion. 

Jlis remains were attired in the dress which he 
usually wore, embalmed in an elegant coffin, and 
then, that all might have the opportunity of behold- 
ing once more his noble form and manly brow, the 
coffin was brought from the library, and " placed in 
front of the house, beneath the open heavens, and 
under a tree which, in its summer foliage, was 
a conspicuous ornament of the spot. The majestic 
form reposed in the familiar garb of life, with more 

329 



330 THE FUNERAL. 

than the dignity of Ufe in its most imposing mo- 
ments. Suffering had changed without impairing 
those noble features. The grandeur of the brow was 
untouclied, and the attitude full of strength and 
peace. For more than three hours a constant stream 
of men and women, of all ages, passed on both 
sides, pausing for a moment to look upon tliat loved 
and honored form. Parents held their children by 
the hand, bade thetn contemplate the face of their 
benefactor, and charged them never to lose the 
memory of that spectacle and that hour. Many 
dissolved into tears as they turned aside ; and one 
— a man of plain garb and appearance — was heard 
to make, in a subdued voice, the striking remark, 
' Daniel Webster, the world will seem lonesome 
without you.' " 

The funeral services were performed by Rev. 
Ebenezer Alden, pastor of the Orthodox Congrega- 
tional Church of the town, after which the embalmed 
remains were borne to the tomb by six of Mr. Web- 
ster's Marshfield neighboi;s, and deposited in the 
place of his own selection, where the voices of 
the wind, blending with the subdued notes of the 
rolling surf, furnish unceasingly a mournful re- 
quiem. 

The day of Mr. Webster's funeral at Marshfield 
was a day of sorrow throughout the land. In Bos- 
ton, especially, it was observed with every indication 



BOSTON IN MOURNING. 331 

of sorrow. At no time since the death of General 
Washington has the city presented so universally 
the habihments of woe. Business was suspended ; 
schools were discontinued ; banks, courts, markets, 
offices, and pubhc institutions of all kinds were 
closed. A large proportion of the city was arrayed 
in the drapery of mourning. Hotels, stores, pubhc 
buildings, and private edifices were clothed in mate- 
rials whose colors of black and white, mingling to 
gether, imparted to them a sombre and funereal as- 
pect. Flags of all kinds, tied with crape, appropri- 
ately ornamented, and containing inscriptions, were 
hung over doorways, on the fronts of the houses, 
or festooned across the streets. The impressiveness 
of these arrangements was increased by the fact that 
in the city there were no public exercises on that 
day ; no procession, no address, no religious service. 
As all business was suspended, the people were at 
leisure, and consequently large numbers spent the 
day in slowly perambulating the streets, gazing upon 
the drapery, reading the various mottoes and inscrip- 
tions, and indulging in their own mournfnl reflec- 
tions. 

Amongst the sentiments which were suspended 
in conspicuous places on that sad occasion were 
many beautifully significant and impressive. We 
give the following specimens ; — 



332 INSCRIPTIONS. 

THE GLORY OF THY LIFE, LIKE THE DAT OF THY DEATH, 
SHALL NOT FAIL FROM THE REMEMBRANCE OF MAN. 



J 



HIS WORDS OF -WISDOM, WITH RESISTLESS POWER, 

HAVE GRACED OUR BRIGHTEST, CHEERED OUR DARKEST HOTJB. 

WHEREVER AMONG MEN A HEART SHALL BE FOUND THAT BEATS 

to the transports of patriotism and liberty, 

its aspirations shall be to claim 

kindred with his spirit. 

know thou, o stranger to the fame 

of this much-loved, much-honored name, 

(for none that knew him need be told,) 

A WARMER HEART DEATH NE'ER MADE COLD. 

^ THOU ART MIGHTY YET. THY SPIRIT WALKS ABROAD. 

^ THE GREAT HEART OF THE NATION THROBS HEAVILY AT THE 

PORTALS OF HIS GRAVE. 

j LIVE LIKE patriots! LIVE LIKE AMERICANS! UNITED ALL, 
UNITED NOW, AND UNITED FOREVER. 

THOU HAST INSTRUCTED MANY, AND THOU HAST STRENGTHENED 

THE WEAK HANDS. 

we've SCANNED THE ACTIONS OF HIS DAILY LIFE, AND NOTHING 
MEETS OUR EYES BUT DEEDS OF HONOR. 

ROME, WHEN THEY DIE, DIE ALL. THEIR MOULDERING CLAY IS 

BUT AN EMBLEM OF THEIR MEMORIES. BUT HE HAS LIVED. 

HE LEAVES A WORK BEHIND WHICH WILL PLUCK 

THE SHINING AGE FROM VULGAR TIME, 

AND GIVE IT WHOLE TO LATE 

POSTERITY. 



t 



hillard's eulogy. 333 

Similar scenes were presented, when, on the 30th 
of November, the city of Boston gave another pub- 
lic expression of the high respect entertained for the 
memory of Mr. Webster. A long and imposing 
civic and military procession, with craped arms, 
shrouded flags, and muffled drums, passed through 
the streets to Faneuil Hall, where a chaste, eloquent, 
and highly appropriate eulogy was pronounced by 
Hon. George S. Hillard, the close of which will 
fui'nish an appropriate termination to this volume. 

" There, among the scenes that he loved in life, he 
sleeps well. He has left his name and memory to 
dwell forever upon those hills and valleys, to breathe 
a more spiritual tone into the winds that blow over 
his grave, to touch with finer light the line of the 
breaking wave, to throw a more solemn beauty upon 
the hues of autumn and the shadows of twilight. 

" But though his mortal form is there, his spirit is 
here. His words are written in living hght along 
these walls. May that spirit rest upon us, and 
our children. May those words live in our hearts, 
and the hearts of those who come after us ! May 
we honor his memory, and show our gratitude for 
his life, by taking heed to his counsels, and walking 
in the way on which the light of his wisdom 
shines ! " 



334 



We here give a picture of the Family Tomb at 
Marshfield, in which now repose the mortal remains 
of the " great American Statesman," 



DANIEL WEBSTER. 




For a particular description of the Tomb, its lo 
cation, the various inscriptions, etc., we refer the 
reader to page 214. 



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been received. 

THE NATURAL HISTORY OF THE SPECIES: its 

Tyi)ical Forms and Primeval Distribution. By CllARLES HAMILTON 
Smith. With an Introduction, containing an Abstract of the Viewe of 
Bluincnbach, Pricliard, Bachman, Agassiz, and other writers of repute. 
By Samuel Kneeland, Jr., M. D. With elegant Hlustratir.ns. 
12mo, cloth, 1,25. 

The marks of practical good sense, careful observation, and deep research are dis- 
played in every page. The introductory essay comprises an abstract of the opinions 
advocated by the most eminent writers on the subject The statements arc made 
with strict impartiality, and, witliout a comment, left to the judgment of the reader- 
— Sartain's Jfagazine. 

Tills book is characterized by more curious and interesting research than any one 
that has recently come under our examination. — Albany Journal and Register, 

It is a book of learning, and full of interest, and may be regarded as among the 
comparatively few real contributions to science, that serve to redeem, in some meas- 
ure, the mass of useless stuff under which the press groans. — Ch. Witness. 

The volume l)efore us is one of the best of the publishers' series of publications, 
replete with rare and valuable information. It is the result of the researches, collec- 
tions, and labors of a long and valuable Ufetime, presented in the most popular form 
imaginable. — Albany Spectator. 

THE POETRY OF SCIENCE ; or the Physical Phenomena 
of Nature. By ROBERT HUNT, Author of " Panthea," '« Researches of 
Light," &.C. 12mo, cloth, 1,25. 

It is one of the most readable, interesting, and instructive works of the Idnd that 
we have ever seen. — Phil. Christian Observer, 

LAKE SUPERIOR : its Physical Character, Vegetation, and 
Physical compared with those of other and similar regions. By Louis 
Agassiz, and Contributions from other eminent Scientific Gentlemen. 
With a Narrative of the Expedition, and Hlustrations. By J. E. CABOT. 
One volume, octavo, elegantly illustrated. Cloth, 3,50. 

This work is one of the most valuable scientific works that has appeared in thii 
country. Embodying the researches of our best scientific men relating to a hitherto 
comparatively unknown region, it will be ftfund to contain a great amount of scicQ- 
fific information. With Illustrations, embracing lake and landscape scenery, fishea, 
imd other objects of natiiral history, with an outline map of Lake Superior. 

B 



GUYOT'S WORKS. 



THE EARTH AND MAN : Lectures on Compakativk 
Physical Geography, in its relation to the History of iMankind. By 
Prof. Arnold Guyot. Translated from the Frencli, by Prof. C. C. 
Felton, with Illustrations. Eighth thousand. 12mo, cloth, 1,55. 

From George S. Ilillard, Esq., of Boston. 

Professor Guyot's Lectures arc marked by learning, ability, and taste. His bold 
and comprehensive generalizations rest upon a careful foundation of facts. The es- 
sential value of his statements is enhanced by his luminous arrangement, and by a 
vein of philosophical reflection which gives life and dignity to dry details. To teach- 
ers of youth it will be especially important. They may learn from it how to make 
Geography, which I recall as the least interesting of studies, one of the most attrac- 
tive^ and I earnestly commend it to their careful consideration. 

Those who have been accustomed to regard Geography as a merely descriptive 
branch of learning, drier than the remainder biscuit after a voyage, will be delighted 
to find this hitherto unattractive pursuit converted into a science, the principles of 
■which are definite and the results conclusive. — JS^orth American Review. 

Faith, science, learning, poetry, taste, in a word, genius, have liberally contributed 
to the production of the work under review. Sometimes we feel as if we were study- 
ing a treatise on the exact sciences ; at others, it strikes the ear like an epic poem. 
Now it reads like history, and now it sounds like prophecy. It will find readers in 
whatever language it may be published. — Christian Examiner. 

The work is one of high merit, exhibiting a wide range of knowledge, great re- 
search, and a philosophical spirit of investigation. Its perusal will well repay the 
most learned in such subjects, and give new views to all of man's relation to the globe 
he inhabits.— ASi7Zima?t's Journal. 

GUYOT'S MURAL MAPS; a Series of elegant Colored 
Maps, projected on a large scale, for the Recitation Room, consisting of a 
Map of the World, North and South America, Europe, Asia, Africa, &c., 
exhibiting the Physical Phenomena of the Globe, etc. By Prof. Arnold 
Guyot. Price, mounted, 10,00 each. 

MAP OF THE WORLD, - (ready) ; NORTH AMERICA,— (ready) ; 

SOUTH AMERICA,- (nearly ready) ; GEOGRAPHICAL ELEMENTS, (ready.) 

tt^ Other Maps of the Series are in preparation. 

COMPARATIVE PHYSICAL AND HISTORICAL 
GEOGRAPHY ; or, the Study of the Earth and its Inhabitants, A series 
of graduated courses for the useof Schools, By ARNOLD GuYOT, author 
of " Earth and Man," etc. 

The series hereby announced will consist of three courses, adapted to the capacity 
of three different ages and periods of study. Each course will be divided into twa 
parts, one on purely Physical Geography, the other for Ethnography, Statistics, Po- 
litical and Historical Geography. Each part will be illustrated by a colored Phys- 
ical and Political Atlas, prepared expressly for this purpose, delineating the config- 
uration of the surface, the distribution of the races of men, and the political divisions 
Into states, &c., &c. 

The two parts of the first are now in a forward state of preparation, and will be U- 
•ned at an early day. C 



VALUABLE SClIlNTIFIC AVORKS. 



PRINCIPLES OF ZOOLOGY: touching the Structure, De- 
velopment, Distribution, and Natural Arran|rement of the Races of An- 
imals, livin? and extinct. With numerous Illustrations. FortlieUseof 
Schools and Colleges. Part I., Comparative Physiology. By 
Louis Agassiz and Augustus A. Gould. Revised Edition. 12nio, 
cloth, 1,00. 

This work places us in possession of information half a century in advance of all 
our elementary works on this subject . . . No work of the same dimensions has 
ever appeared in the English language containing so much new and valuable infor- 
mation on the subject of which it treats. — Prof. James Hall. 

It is simple nnd elementary in its style, full in its illustrations, comprehensive in 
its range, yet well condensed, and brought into the narrow compass requisite for the 
purpose inteuded. — Silliiiian's Journal, 

The work may safely be recommended as the best book of the kind in our lan- 
guage— CltrUtian Kxuniine.r. 

It is not a mere book, but a work — a real work, in the form of a book. Zoology is 
on interesting ?cicncc, and is here treated witli a masterly hand. It is a work adapt- 
ed to colleges and schools, and no young man should be without it — Scientific Am. 

PRINCIPLES OF ZOOLOGY, PART IL Systematic Zo- 
ologj-, 111 wliich the Principles of Classification are applied, and the prin- 
cipal Groujis cf Animals are briefly characterized, 
trations. \^\no, in preparation 



Witli numerous Illus- 



THE ELEMENTS OF GEOLOGY; adapted to Schools and 
College^, with numerous Illustrations. By J. R. LoOMis, late Professor 
of Chemistry and Geology in Waterville College. 12mo, cloth, 1,00. 

After a thorough examination of the work, we feel convinced that in all the re- 
quirements of a text book of natural science, it is surpassed by no work before the 
American public. - M. B. Anderson, Pres. of Rochester Umversitv. 

This is just such a work as is needed for our schools. It contains a systematic 
statement of the principles of Geology, without entering into the minuteness of de- 
tail, which, though interesting to the mature student confuses the learner. Vfc see 
no reason why it should not take its place as a text book in all the schools in the 
land. — y. Y. Observer. 

This volume merits the attention of teachers, who, if we mistake not, will find it 
better adapted to their purpose than any other similar work of which we have knowl- 
edge. The plan of the work is simple and clear, and the style in which it is written 
is both compact and lucid. We have special pleasure in welcoming its appearance. — 
Watchman and Reflector. 

This volume seems to he just the book now required on geology. It will acquu-e 
rapidly a circulation, and will do much to popularize and universally diffuse a 
knowledge of geological truths. — Albany Journal. 

It gives a clear and scientific, yet simple, analysis of the main features of the sci- 
ence. It seems, in language and illustration, admirably adapted for use as a text book 
in common schools and academies ; while it is vastly better than any thing which 
was used in college in our time. In all these capacities we particularly and cordially 
recommend it. — Congregatiojialist, Boston, D 



CHAMBERS'S WORKS. 



CHAMBERS'S CYCLOPEDIA OF ENGLISH LITERA- 
TURE. A Selection of the choicest productions of English Authors, from 
the earliest to the present time. Connected by a Critical and Biographical 
History. Forming two large imperial octavo volumes of 14U0 pages, 
double column letter-press ; with upwards of 300 elegant Illustrations. 
Edited by Robert Chambers, embossed cloth, 5,00. 

This work embraces about one thousand authors, chronologically arranged and 
classed as Poets, Historians, Dramatists, Philosopliers, Metaphysicians, Divines, etc., 
■witli choice selections from their writings, connected by a Biograpliical, Historical, 
and Critical Narrative ; thus presenting a complete view of English literature from 
the earliest to the present time. Open where you will, you cannot fail to find matter 
for profit and delight. The selections are gems — infinite riches in a httle room ; 
" A WHOLE English Libeaey fused down into one cueap book ! " 

From W. H. Prescott, Author of "Ferdinand and Isabella." The plan 
of the work is very judicious. . . . Readers cannot fail to profit largely by the 
labors of the critic who has the talent and taste to separate what is really beautiful and 
worthy of their study from what is superfluous. 

1 concur in the foregoing opinion of Mr, Prescott. - Edwaed Evekett. 

A work indispensable to the library of a student of English literature. — WArL-^ND. 

We hail with peculiar pleasure the appearance of this work. — North Am. Review. 

It has been fitly described as " a whole English library fused down into one cheap 
book." The Boston edition combines neatness with cheapness. — iV. Y. Com. Adv. 

SS~ The American edition contains additional likenesses of Shakspeaee, Addi- 
son, BvRON ; a full length portrait of Dr. Johnson, and a beautiful scenic represen- 
tation of Oliver Goldsmith and Dr. Johnson. These important additions, to- 
gether witli superior paper and binding, render the American far superior to the 
Englisli edition. The circulation of this work has been immense, and its sale in this 
country still continues unabated. 

CHAMBERS'S IMISCELLANY OF USEFUL AND EN- 
TERTAINING KNOWLEDGE. Edited by William Chambers. 
With Elegant Illustrative Engravings. Ten volumes, 16mo, cloth, 7,00. 

This work has been highly recommended by distinguished individuals, as ad- 
mirably adapted to Family, Sabbath, .nnd District School Libraries. 

It would be difficult to find any miscellany superior or even equal to it ; it richly 
deserves the epithets " useful and entertaining," and I would recommend it very 
strongly as extremely well adapted to Ibrm parts of a library for the young, or of a 
social or circulating library in town or country. — George B. Emerson, Esq., 
Chairman Boston School Book Committee. 

I am gratified to have an opportunity to be instrumental in circulating " Cham- 
bers's Miscellany " among the schools for which I am superintendent. — J. J. Clute, 
Town. Siq). of Castleton, N. Y. 

I am not acquainted with any similar collection in the English language that can 
compare with it for purposes of instruction or amusement. I should rejoice to.see 
that set of books in every house in our country. — Re v. John O. Choules, D. D. 

The information contained in this work is surprisingly great ; and for the fireside, 
and the young, particularly, it cannot fail to prove a most valuable and entertaining 
companion. — N. Y. Evangelist. 

An admirable compilation. It unites the useful and entertaining. — N. Y. Com. 



CHAMBERS'S WORKS. 



CHAMBERS'S HOME BOOK AND POCKET MISCEL- 
LANY. Containing a Choice Selection of Interesting and Instructive 
Reading for the Old and the Young, Six vols. 16mo, cloth, 3,00. 

This work is considered fully equal, if not superior, to either of the Chambers's 
other works in interest, and, like them, contains a vast fund of valuable information. 
Following somewhat the plan of the "Miscellany," it is admirably adapted to the 
•chool or tl»e family library, furnishing ample variety for every class of readers, both 
old and young. 

We do not know how it is possible to publish so much good reading matter at such 
a low price. We speak a good word for the lit<Tary excellence of the stories in this 
work ; we hope our people will introduce it into all their families, in order to drive 
away the miserable flashy-trashy stuff so often found in the hands of our young 
people of l)oth sexes. — Scientijic American. 

Both an entertaining and instructive work, as it is a very cheap one. — Puritan Rec, 

It cannot but have an extensive circulation. — Albany Express. 

Of all the series of cheap books, this promises to be the best — Bangor Mercury. 

If any person wishes to read for amusement or profit, to kill time or improve it, get 
" Chambers's Home Book." — Chicago Times. 

Tlic Chambers are confessedly the best caterers for popular and useful reading in 
the world. — Willis's Home Journal 

A very entertaining, instructive, and popular work. — jV. 3". Commercial. 

The articles are of that attractive sort which suits us in moods of indolence when 
- we would linger half way between wakefulness and sleep. They require just thought 
and activity enough to keep our feet from the land of Nod, without forcing us to run, 
walk, or oven stand. — Eclectic, Portland. 

It is j ust the thing to amuse a leisure hour, and at the same time combines instrnc 
tion with amusement. — Dover Inc/virer. 

Messrs. Chambers, of Edinburgh, have become famous wherever the English lan- 
guage is spoken and read, for their interesting and instructive publications. They 
combine in.'^tnictioyi with amusement, and throughout they breathe a spirit of the 
purest morality. — Chicago Tribune. 

CHAMBERS'S REPOSITORY OF INSTRUCTIVE AND 
AMUSING PAPERS. With Illustrations. An entirely New Series, 
containing Original Articles, p. 260, 16ino, cloth, per vol. 50 cents. 

The Messrs. Chambers have recently commenced the publication of this work, un- 
der the title of "Chambers's Repository of Instructive and Amusing 
Tracts," similar in style, etc., to the " Miscellany," which has maintained an enor- 
mous circulation of more than eighty thousand copies in England, and has already 
reached nearly the same in this country. Arrangements have been made by the 
American publishers, to issue the work simultaneously with the English edition, a 
volume every two months, to continue until the whole series is completed. Each 
volume complete in itself, and will be sold in sets or single volumes. 

osr Commendatory Letters, Reviews, Notices, &c., of each of Chambers's works, 
sufficient to make a good sized duodecimo volume, have been received by the pub- 
lishers, but room here will only allow giving a specimen of the vast multitude at 
hand. They are all popular, and contain valuable instructive and entertaining read- 
ing — such as should be found in every family, school, and college library. 

F 



VALUABLE WORK. 



CYCLOPAEDIA OF ANECDOTES OF LITERATURE 
AND THE FINE ARTS. Containing a copious and choice selection of 
Anecdotes of the various, forms of Literature, of the Arts, of Arcliitecture, 
Ei>gravings, Music, Poetry, Painting, and Sculpture, and of the mast cel- 
^ ebrated Literary Characters and Artists of different Countries and Ages, 
&c. By Kazlitt Arvine, A. M., Author of " Cyclopeedia of Moral and^ 
ileligious Anecdotes." With illustrations. 725 pages octavo, cloth, 3,00. 

This is unquestionably the choicest collection of anecdotes ever published. It con- 
tains tliree thousiiiul and fortj/ Anecdotes, and such is the wonderful variety, that it 
■will be found an almost inexhaustible fund of interest for every class of readers; 
and to public speakers, to all classes of literary and scientific men, to artists, mechan- 
ics, and others, a perfect DiCTiONAKY,/or reference. There are also more than one 
Imndred and fifty fine Illustrations. 

We know of no work which comprises so much valuable information in a form so 
cnts-M'tahiing. — iV. Y. Chronicle. 

Here is a perfect repository of the most choice and approved specimens of this spe- 
cies of information. The work is replete with such entertainment as is adapted to all 
g! adfs of read^s, the most or least intellectual. — Methodist Quarterly Magazine. 

Oue of the most complete things of the kind ever given to the public. There 13 
scnvccly a paragraph in the whole book which will not interest some one deeply ; for, 
Vhi le men of letters, argument, and art cannot afford to do without its immense fund 
Of sound maxims, pungent wit, apt illustrations, and brilliant examples, the mer- 
chant, mechanic and laborer will find it one of the choicest companions of the hours* 
Of relaxation. " "Whatever be the mood of one's mind, and however limited the time 
for reading, in the almost endless variety and great brevity of the articles he can tind 
something to suit his feelings, which he can begin and end at once. It may also be 
made the very life of the social circle, containing pleasant reading for all ages, at all 
times and seasons. — Buffalo Com. Advertiser. 

A well spring of entertainment, to be drawn from at any moment. — Bangor Whig. 

A magnificent collection of anecdotes touching literature and the fine arts. — Al- 
bany Spectator. 

The most comprehensive collection of anecdotes ever published. — Salem Gazette. 

A publication of which there is little danger of speaking in too flattering terms ; a 
perfect Tliesaurus of rare and curious information, carefully selected and method- 
ically arranged. A jewel of a book to lie on one's table, to snatch up in those brief 
moments of leisure that could not be very profitably turned to account by recourse 
to any connected work In any department of literature. — Troy Budget. 

IS'o family ought to be without it, for it is at once cheap, valuable, and very inter- 
esting ; containing matter compDed from all kinds of books, from all quarters of the 
globe, from all ages of the world, and in relation to every corporeal matter at all wor- 
thy Of being remarked or remembered. —New Jersey Union. 

A rich treasury of thought, and wit. and learning, illustrating the characteristics and 
peculiarities of many of the most distinguished names in history. — Phil. Chris. Obs, 

Tiie range of topics is very wide, relating to nature, religion, science, and art ; fur- 
nishing apposite illustrations for the preacher, the orator, the Sabbath school teacher, 
and the instructors of our common schools, academies, and colleges. It is a valuable 
■work for the fireside, calculated to please and edify all classes. — ZanesviUe Ch. Reg. 

This is one of the most entertaining works for desultory reading we have seen. "W« 
hardly know of any thing at once so instructive and amusing. ~ N. Y. Ch. Intel. 

Q 



IMPORTANT WORK. 



KITTO'S POrULAR CYCLOPAEDIA OF BIBLICAL 

LITERATURE. Condensed from the larger work. By the Author, 
John Kitto, D. D., Author of "Scripture Daily Readings," &r. As- 
sisted by James Taylor, D. D. With over 500 Illustrations. 3,00. 

Tliis vork is designed to furnish a DrcTiONARY of the Bible, embodying the 
products of the best and most recent researches in biblical literature, in wliich the 
ficholurs of Europe and America have been engaged. The work, tlie result of im- 
mense labor and research, is pronounced, by universal consent, the best work of its 
class extant. It is not only intended for mimslers and theological students, but U lUso 
particularly adapted to parents. Sabbath school teachers, and the great bod;/ of the re- 
hgio lis public. The illustrations, amounting to more than 300, are of the highest order. 
A condensed view of the rarious to/jics comprcfiended in the icor/:. 

1. Biblical Criticism, — Embracing the History of the Bible Languages ; Can- 
on of Scripture ; Literary History and Peculiarities of the Sacred Books ; Formatioa 
and History of Scripture Texts, 

2. HisTOKV, — Proper Names of Persons; Biographical Sketches of prominent 
Characters ; Detailed Accounts of important Events recorded in Scripture ; Chronol- 
ogj" and Genealogy of Scripture. 

3. GiiOonAPHY, — Names of Places ; Description of Scenery ; Boundaries and Mu- 
tual Relations of the Countries mentioned in Scripture, so far as necessary to illus- 
trate the Sacred Text. 

4. Akcu.kology, — Manners and Customs of the Jews and other nations men- 
Coned in Scripture ; their Sacred Institutions, MiUtary Affairs, PoUtical Arrange- 
ments, Literary and Scientific Pursuits. 

5. Physical Science,— Scripture Cosmogony and Astronomy, Zoology, Min- 
eralogy, Botany, Meteorology. 

In addition to numerous flattering notices and reviews, personal letters from a 
large number of the most distinguished Ministers and Laymen of different religions de- 
nominations in the country have been received, highly commending this work as ad- 
mirably adapted to ministers, Sabbath school teachers, heads of families, and aU 
Bible students. 

Tlie following extract of a letter is a fair specimen of individual letters received 
from each of the gentlemen whose names are given below : — 

" I have examined it with special and unalloyed satisfaction. It has the rare merit 
of being all that it professes to be; and very few, I am sure, who may consult it will 
deny tliat, in richness and fulness of detail, it surpasses their expectation. IMany 
ministers will find it a valuable auxiliary ; but its chief excellence is, that it furnishes 
Just the facilities which are needed by the thousands in families and Sabbath schools, 
•who are engaged in the important business of biblical education. It is in itself a li- 
brary of reliajjle information." 

W. B. Spracue, D. D., Albany ; J. J. Carruthers, D. D., Portland ; Joel Hawes, 
D. D., Hartford. Ct. ; Daniel Sharp, D. D., Boston ; N. L. Frothingham. D. D., Bos- 
ton ; Ephraim Peabody. D- D., Boston ; A. L. Stone. Boston ; John S. Stone, D. D, 
Brooklyn ; J. B. Waterbury, D. D.. Boston ; Baron Stow, D. D., Boston ; Thomas H. 
Skinner. D. D., Xew York : Samuel W. Worcester, D. D., Salem ; Horace Bushnell, 
D. D., Hartford, Ct : Right Reverend J. M. Wainwright, D. D., New York ; Gardner 
Spring, D. D., New York : W. T. Dwight. D. D.. Portland ; E. N. Kirk, Boston ; Profc 
George Bush, author of Notes on the Scriptures," New York; Howard Malcom, 
D. D.. author of " Bible Dictionary : " Henry J. Ripley, D. D.. author of " Notes on 
the Scriptures;" N. Porter. Prof in Yale College, New Haven. Ct.; Jared Sparks, 
Edward Everett. Theodore Frelinghuysen. Robert C. Winthrop. John McLean. Si- 
mon Greenleaf. Thomae S, Williams,— and a large number of others of like char- 
acter and standing of the above, whose names cannot here appear. H 



WORKS FOR BIBLE STUDENTS. 



A TREATISE O'^ BIBLICAL CRITICISMS ; Exhibiting 

a Systematic View of tiiat Science. By Samuel Davieson, D. D., of 
the University of Halle, Author of " Ecclesiastical Polity," " Introduction 
to the New Testament," etc. A new Revised and Enlarged Edition, in 
two elegant octavo volumes, cloth, 5,00. 

These volumes contain a statement of the sources of criticism, such as the MSS. of 
tlie Hebrew Bible and Greek Testament, the principal versions of both, quotations 
from them in early writers, parallels, and also the internal evidence on which critics 
rely for obtaining a pure text. A history of tlie texts of the Old and New Test*- 
nicnts, with a description of the Hebrew and Greek languages in which the Scrip- 
tures are written. An examination of disputed passages. Every thing is discussed 
■which properly belongs to tlie ci iticism of the text, comprcliending all tliat conies un- 
der the title of Gcnerul hiiroductioa in Introduetioas to the Old and New Testament 

HISTORY OF PALESTINE, from the Patriarchal Age to 
the Present Time ; with Introductory Chapters on the Geography and 
.Natural History of the Country, and on the Customs and Institutions of 
the Hehrevvs, By John Kitto, D. D., Author of " Scripture Daily Read- 
ings," " Cyclopedia of Biblical Literature," &.c With upwards of two 
hundred TUustr aliens. 12mo, cloth, 1,25. 

A very full compendium of the geography and history of Palestine, from the ear- 
liest era mentioned in Scripture to the present day ; not merely a dry record of boun- 
sdariec, and the succeseion -of rulers, but an intelligible account of the agriculture, 
Siabits of life, literature, science, and art, with the religious, political, and judicial in- 
stitutions of the inhabitants of the Holy Land in all ages. A more useful and iQ- 
astructive book lias rarely been published. — N. Y. CoinmerciaL 

Beyond all dispute, this is the best historical compendium of the Holy Land, from 
the days of Abraham to those of JNIehemct AIL — Edinbur(jh Review. 

^S- In the numerous notices and reviews the work has been strongly recommend- 
sed, as not only admirably adapted to the /amilu, but also as a text book for Sabbath 
Mild iveek day scJiooh. 

CRUDEN'S CONDENSED CONCORDANCE ; a New and 

Complete Concordance to tlie Holy Scriptures. By ALEXANDER CRU- 
DE N, Revised and Reedited by the Rev. David King, LL. D. Tenth 
Thousand. Octavo, cloth backs. 1,25. 

This work is jirinted from English plates, and is a full and fair copy of all that is 
■valuable as a Concordance 'n Cruden's larger work, in two volumes, which costs,Af« 
dollars, while this edition is furnished at one dollar and ttoenty-five ceiit.^ ! The prin- 
cipal variation from the 'larger book consists in tlie exclusion of the Bible Dictionary, 
<which has always been an incumbrance.) the condensation of the quotations of 
Scripture, arranged under their most obvious heads, which, while it diminishes the 
bulk of the work, greatly facilitates the finding of any required passage. 

We have, in this edition of Cruden, the best made better I That is, the present is 
Setter adapted to the purposes of a concordarvce, by the erasure of sujxirfluous ref- 
erences, and the contraction of quotations, etc. It is better as a manual, and better 
adapted by its price, to the means of many who need and ought to possess such a 
work, Iban the former large and expensive edition. — Puritan Recorder. 

I 



VALUABLE WOKKS. 

ANCIENT LITERATURE AND ART. Miscellaneous 
Essays on Subjects connected with Classical Lifrrature, with the Biogra- 
phy and Correspondence of eminent Philologists. By Profs. Barnas 
Sears, Secretary of the Massachusetts Board of Education, B. B, ED- 
WARDS, of Andover. and C. C. Felton, of Cambridge. Second thou- 
sand. 12ino, clotli, 1,25. 

•9- A work of great interest to the Bcholar and the general reader, and one of high 
literary merit, containing the contributions of three gentlemen who may be classed 
among the most distinguished scholars of our country. 

A noble monument to the taste, and judgment, and sound learning of the project- 
ors, and will yield, we doubt not, a rich harrest of fame to themselves, and of benefit 
to our literature. — Christian Jieview. 

It is refreshing, truly, to sit down with such a book as this. When the press is 
teeming with the hasty works of autliors and publishers, it is a treat to take up a book 
that is an honor, at once, to the arts and the literature of our country.— ^V. Y. Obs. 

This is truly an elejTJnt volume, both in respect to its literary and its niechanical 
execution. Its typograpJiical appearance is an honor to the American press ; and the 
intrinsic character of Uie work is highly creditable to the age. It is a novel work, and 
may be called a plea for classical learning. — Puritan Recorder. 

MODERN FRENCH LITERATURE, (Chambei^'s People's 
Edition,) by L. Raymond De Vericour ; Revised, with Mites, alluding 
particularly to writers prominent in late political events at Paris. By 
William Staughton Chase, A. M. Second thousand. With a fine 
portrait of Lamartine. 12mo, cloth, 1,25. 

This is one of the most valuable works that has recently been giren to the public. 
We have risen from its jierusal, gratified witli the large accc-ssions of knowledge which 
we have gained of the literature of France. — Pwritau Jiecorder. 

To every lover of the attractive literature of France, this work will be one of utt- 
mixed interest. It is a publication of no ordinary merit. — Boston Atlas. 

The key to the French character is its Literature. This work is a clear, well-con- 
sidered exposition of modem literature by one himself a Frenchman. The additions 
by the American editor enhance materially the value of the work. — P/ji7. Sat. Com\ 

This is an elegant, able, and highly interesting work. It will be found, we venture 
to predict, one of the best works of its character ever issued. — N.Y. Ceur^aud Enq. 

THE LIFE OF GODFREY WILLIAM VON LEIBNITZ. 
By JOHN M. Mackie, Esq., on the basis of the German work of Dr. 6. 
E. Guhrauer. 12mo, cloth, 75 cts. 

We commend this book, not only to scholars and men of science, but to all ottr 
readers who love to contemplate the life and labors of a great and good man. It 
merits the special notice of all who are interested in the biisiness of education, and 
deserves a place by the side of Brewster^s Life of Newton, in all the libraries of our 
schools, academies, and literary institutions.— Watehmem and Rejieetor. 

MEMOIR OF ROGER WILLIAMS, Founder of the State 
of Rhode Island. By Prof. William Gammell. 12mOj eloJb, 75 cts. 



THE CAPTIVE IN PATAGONIA; 

OR LIFE AMONG THE GIANTS. 

By Benjamin F. Bourne. With Illustrations. 12mo, cloth, 85 cts. 

This work, by Captain Bourne, — who was taken captive and retained three months 
by the Patagonians, — gives an account of his capture and final escape ; a description 
of this strange people ; their manners, customs, habits, pursuits; the country, its soil 
productions, etc., of which Uttle or nothing has heretofore been known, o^- A work 
of thrilling interest, and of instruction to every class of readers. 

- Any book, descriptive of a country which is almost like fable land to the civilized 
world, must possess great interest; but this work, besides having this attraction, is 
written with much vigor and spirit, and is replete with a variety of interesting facts, 
descriptive of the manners, customs, character, etc., of the Patagonians. — Sav. Jour. 

A work of thrilling interest, and bids fair to be another Uncle Tom's Cabin. Cap- 
tain Bourne is well known and highly respected in this community ; and the narra- 
tive of his strange adventures, startling and romantic as they may seem, can be relied 
upon as strictly true. — Nantucket Eagle. 

We have seldom read a work of such intense interest. — iV. H. Sentinel, 

This is a narrative of great interest. — Phil. Ch. Observer. 

We question whether the scenes, trials, hardships, adventures, etc., could have been 
Miere vividly drawn had they emanated from the pen of an Ikving or a Cooper. — 
Rutland ( Vt.) Herald. 

The author is known as a respectable man, and one of high integrity ; and from hia 
own experience has given particulars of the manners, customs, habits, and pursuits 
of thfi natives. It is a thrilling narrative, and as exciting as Typee. — Neioport Merc, 

No work of romance can exceed to enchain the mind and awaken interest. — Cong, 

Seldom, if ever, have we perused a work with so intense an interest. No work of 

romance can excel it in power to enchant the mind, and awaken a nervous desire to 

possess the valuable information which it communicates. — Amherst Express. 

Having begun it one evening, we would not quit until the book had been finished. 

— Montpelier Journal. 

Uncle Tom may stand aside for the present Mrs. Stowe may herself, as well at 
}ier readers, listen to the tale of a New Bedford sailor. His narrative is one that can- 
not fail to move both to smiles and tears, — containing touches of the broadest and 
most genial humor, as well as passages of simple pathos, which dissolve the soul in 
sympathy. — B. H. Auroras 

Possessing all the interest of real adventure, with all the attractiveness of romance, 
we do not wonder at its popularity. — Boston Atlas. 

We have never before perused any pei-sonal narrative that has interested us as this 
one. — Fountain and Journal, Me. 

We have scarcely been able to leave tts attractive pages. If the reader wishes to be 
amused, instructed, delighted, and benefited, he cannot do better than to procure a 
copy. — Gai-diner Evening Transcript. 

. THE HISTORY OF BANKING ; with a Comprehensive 
Account of the Origin, Rise, and Progress of the Banks of England, Ire- 
land, and Scotland. By William John Lawson. First American 
Edition. Revised, with numerous additions. By J. SMITH HOMANS, 
Editor of Bankers' Magazine. 1 vol. octavo, 2,00. 

•3" A novel book, yet interesting and instructive ; containing anecdotes of men 
who have figured largely in the business, cases of forgeries, counterfeits, detections, 
irials, etc. R 



"TO DAI3I0NI0N," 

OR, THE SPIRITUAL MEDIUM. 

ITS NATURE illustrated by the History of its uniform Mys- 
terious ftlanifestation when unduly excited, in Twelve Familiar Letters to 
an Inquiring Friend. B) Traverse Oldfield. 16mo, cloth, 37^ cts. 

*,* This is a successful attempt to account for the phenomena of the modem 
"Rappings" on other than supernatural grounds. The author goes over the various 
fields of wonder, witchcraft, and demonology, from the Magi of Egypt to the modern 
Spirit Rapper, and traces them to the action of the nervous principle. It is an excel- 
lent antidote for the greatest folly of the times. 

A learned and curious book, written with a view to caution the enthusiastic of the 
dangers of playing with the nervous energies of the human system. — yat. Intel. 

It is a common-sense view of a subject which, in its various branches, has strongly 
affected many minds, and its publication is eminently opportune. — SdUm Register. 

The book indicates great research, and traces the "manifestations" back almost to 
our first father. It will well repay perusal, on more than one account. — Ch. Sec, 

A valuable book, on one of the most interesting topics of the day.— Port. Trans. 

■Whoever desires to read an able, clear, comprehensive, and very interesting account 
of that mysticism which is attracting attention throughout the land, should purchase 
this work. It is decidedly the best we have seen on the subject. — Louisville liec. 

ONESIMUS ; or the Apostolic Directions to Christian Mas- 
ters in reference to their Slaves, considered. By EvANGELicus. 25 cts 

Its whole spirit and tendency are the opposite of the antislavery publications which 
have produced so much evil. — Princeton Review. 

It is written in an excellent spirit, with close logic and severe perspicuity, and is 
evidently from a practical pen. — Zion'a Herald. 

CHRISTIANITY AND SLAVERY. A Review of Drs. 
Fuller and Wayland on Slavery. By William Hague, D. D. 12.^ cts. 

A very able argument, and a most triumphant vindication of the Bible from the 
charge of sanctioning slavery made by Dr. Fuller; and of not prohibiting it, admitted 
by Dr. Wayland. W e have not in a long time read any thing on the subject of slavery 
with more interest than we have felt in reading this. It is published at the request of 
the Boston Conference of Baptist Ministers. — Dover Star. 

CHRISTIANITY AND SLAVERY. Strictures on the 
Rev. Dr. Hague's Review of Drs. Fuller and Wayland on Dooiestic Sla- 
very. By the Rev. Thomas Meredith, Raleigh, N. C. Paper, 12^ cts. 

It is in reply to Dr. Hague's Review of Fuller and Wayland, and takes the South- 
ern view of the question, presenting what is considered the Bible argument in favor 
of slavery. The style is temperate, and the writer seems to have entered into a calm 
and dispassionate examination of the subject. 

THE SACRED MINSTREL ; a Collection of Church Mu- 
sic, consisting of Psalm and Hymn Tunes, Anthems, Sentences, Chants, 
etc., selected from the most popular productions of nearly one hundred dif- 
ferent authors, in this and other countries. By N. D. Gould. 75 cts. 



A PILGRIMAGE TO EGYPT; 

EMBRACING A DIARY OF EXPLORATIONS ON THE NILE, 

WITH OBSERVATIONS, illustrative of the Manners, Cus- 
toms, and Institutions of the People, and of tlie present condition of the 
Antiquities and Ruins. By J. V. C, Smith, M. D., Editor of the Boston 
Medical and Surgical Journal. With numerous elegant Engravings. 1,25. 

There is a lifelike interest in the narratives and descriptions of Dr. Smith's pen, 
which takes you along with the traveller, so that when he closes a chapter j'ou feel 
that you have reached an inn, where you will rest for a while ; and then, with a re- 
freshed mind, you will be ready to move on again, in a journey full of fresh and in- 
structive incidents and explorations. ~ Ch. Witness. 

Every page of the volume is entertaining and instructive, and even those who are 
well read in Egyptian manners, customs, and scenery, cannot fad ,to find something 
new. — Mercantile Journal. 

This volume is neither a re- hash of guide books, nor a condensed mensuration of 
heights and distances from works on Egyptian antiquities. It contains the daily ob- 
Eervations of a most intelligent traveller, whose descriptions bring to the reader's eye 
the scenes he witnessed. We have read many books on Egypt, some of them full of 
science and learning, and some of wit and frolic, but none which furnished so clear an 
idea of Egypt as it is, — of its ruins as they now are, and of its people as they now 
live and move. — Watchman and Reflector. 

One of the most agreeable books of travel which have been published for a long 
time. — Daily Advertiser. 

It is readable, attractive, and interesting. You seem to be travelling with him, and 
seeing the things which he sees. — Bunker Hill Aurora. 

We see what Egypt was ; we see what Egypt is ; and with prophetic endowment 
we see what it is yet to be. It is a charming book, not written for antiquarians and 
the learned, but for the million, and by the million it will be read. — Congregationalist. 

Mr. Smith is one of the sprightliest authors in America, and this work is worthy of 
his pen. He is particularly happy in presenting the comical and grotesque side of 
dh]^cXs. — Commonwealth. 

The reader may be sure of entertainment in such a land, under the guidance of 
such an observer as Dr. Smith, and will be surprised, when he has accompanied him 
through the tour, at the vivid impression which he retains of persons, and places, and 
incidents. — Salem Gazette. 

This is really one of the most entertaining books upon Egypt that we have met 
with. — Albany Argus. 

One of the most complete and perfect books of the kind ever pubUghed. — Diadem. 

Of all the books we have read on Egypt, we prefer this. It goes ahead of Stephens's. 
Reader, obtain a copy for yourself. — Trumpet. 

The author is a keen observer, and describes what he observes with a graphic pen. 
The volume abounds in vivid descriptions of the manners, customs, and institutions 
of the people visited, the present condition of the ancient ruins, accompanied by a 
large number of illustrations. — Courier. 

SCRIPTURE NATURAL HISTORY ; Containing a De- 
scriptive Account of Q,uadrupeds, Birds, Fi^^hes, Insects, Reptiles, Ser- 
pents, Plants, Trees, Minerals, Gems, and Precious Stones, mentioned in 
the Bible. By WILLIAM Carpenter, London ; with Improvements, 
by Rev. Gorham D. Abbott. Illustrated by numerous Engravings. 
Also, Sketches of Palestine. 12mo, cloth, 1,00. T 



MY FIRST IMPRESSIONS 
OF ENGLAND AND ITS PEOPLE. 

By Hugh Miller, author of 'Old Red Sandstone," " Foot- 
priiifd of the Creator," etc., with a fine likeness of the author. 12nio, 1,00. 

Let not the careless reader imagine, from the title of this book, that it is a common 
book of travels, on the contrary, it is a very remarkable one, both m design, spl'it, and 
execution. The facts recorded, and the views advanced in this book, are so fresh, 
vivid, and natural, that we cannot but commend it as a treasure, both of information 
and enlertaiumcnt. — ]\'illu'<'s J/ome Jourual. 

This is a noble book, worthy of the nuthor of the Footprints of the Creotor and the 
Old Red Sandstone, because it is seasoned with the same power of vivid description, 
the same minuteness of observation, and soundness of criticism, and the same genial 
piety. ^Ve liave read it with deep interest, and with ardent admiration of the au- 
thor's temper and genius. It is al^^osi impossible to lay the book down, even to at- 
tend to more pressing matters. It is, without compliment or hyperbole, a most de- 
lightful volume. — -V. y. Commercial. 

This is a most amusing and instructive book, by a master hand. — Dem. Bev. 

The author of tips work proved himself, in the Footprints of the Creator, one of the 
inost original thinkers and powerful writers of the age. In the volume before us he 
adds new laurels to his reputation. Whoever wishes to understand the character of 
the present race of Englisliinen, as contradistinguished from past generations; to 
comprehend the workings of political, social, and religious agitation in the minds, not 
Of the nobility or gentry, but of t)ic people, will discover that, m this volume, he has 
found a treasure. — Peterson's Magazine. 

His eyes were open to see, and his cars to hear, every thing ; and, as the result of 
what he saw and heard in " merrie " England, he has made one of the most spirited 
And attractive volumes of travels and observations that we have met with. — Trav. 

High Miller is one of the most agreeable, entertaining, and instructive writers of 
the age. We know of no work in England so full of adaptedness to the age as this. 
It opens up clearly to view the condition of its various classes, sheds new light into 
its social, moral, and religious history, its geological peculiarities, and draws conclu- 
•ions of great value. — Albany Spectator. 

The author, one of the most remarkable men of the age, arranged for this journey 
into England, expecting to " lodge in humble cottages, and wear a humble dress, and 
tee what was to be seen by humble men only, — society without its mask." Such an 
observer might be expected to bring to view a thousand things unknown, or partially 
known before ; and abundantly does he fulfil this expectation. It is one of the most 
•bsorbing books of the time. — Portland Ch. Mirror. 



NEW WORK. 

MY SCHOOLS AND SCHOOLMASTERS; 

OR THE STORY OF MY EDUCATION. 

By Hugh Miller, author of " Footprints of the Creator," 

♦' Old Red Sandstone," " First Impressions of England," etc. 12ino, cL 

This is a personal narrative of a deeply interesting and instructive character, con- 
cerning one of the most remarkable men of the age. No one who purchases this book 
will have occasion to regret it, our word for it I 17 



VALUABLE WORKS FOR THE YOUNG. 

BY BEV. HARVEY NEWCOMB. 



HOW TO BE A MAN ; a Book for Boys, containing Useful 
Hints on the Formation of Character. Cloth, gilt, 50 cts. 

" My design in writing has been to contribute something towards forming the char- 
acter of tliose who are to be our future electors, legislators, governors, judges, minis- 
ters, lawyers, and physicians, — after the best model. It is intended for boys — or, if 
you please, for young gentlemen, in early youth." — Preface. 

" How to be a Man " is an inimitable little volume. "We desire that it be widely cir- 
culated. It should be put into the hands of every youth in the land. — Tenn. Bap. 

now TO BE A LADY ; a Book for Girls, containing Useful 
Hints on the Formation of Character. Cloth, gilt, 50 cts. 

" Having daughters of his own, and having been many years employed in writing 

for the young, he hopes to offer some good advice, in an entertaining way, for girls or 
misses, between the ages of eight and fifteen. His object is, to assist them in forming 
their characters upon the best model; that they may become well-bred, intelligent, re- 
fined, and good ; and then they will be real ladies, in the highest sense." — Preface. 

Parents will consult the interests of their daughters, lor time and eternity, in mak- » 
ing them acquainted with this attractive and most useful volume. — i\'. Y. Evangelist. 

Tlie folloioing Notices apply to both tlie above Vohmies. 

It would be better for the next generation if every youth would " read, learn, and 
inwardly digest " the contents of these volumes. — N. Y. Commercial. 

These volumes contain much matter which is truly valuable. — Mer. Journal. 

They contain wise and important counsels and cautions, adapted to the young, and 
made entertaining by the interesting style and illustrations of the author. They are 
fine mirrors, in which are reflected the prominent lineaments of the Christian young 
gentleman and young lady. Elegant presents for the young. —American Pidpit, 

Newcomb's books are excellent. We are pleased to commend them. — iV. Y. Obs. 

They are books well calculated to do good. — Phil. Ch. Chronicle. 

Common-sense, practical hints on the formation of character and habits, and are 
adapted to the improvement of youth. — Mothers' Journal. 

ANECDOTES EOR BOYS; Entertaining Anecdotes and 
JJarratives, illustrative of Principles and Character. 18mo, gilt, 42 cts. 

ANECDOTES FOR GIRLS ; Entertaining Anecdotes and 
Narratives, illustrative of Principles and Character. 18mo, gilt, 42 cts. 

Interesting and instructive, without being fictitious. The anecdotes are many, 
siiort, and spirited, with a moral drawn from each, adapted to every age, condition, 
and duty of life. We commend them to families and schools. -- Albany Spectator. 

Works of great value, for a truth or principle is sooner instilled into the youthful 
heart by an anecdote, than in any other way. They are well selected. — Ev'g Gaz. 

Kothing has a greater interest for a youthful mind than a well-told story, and no 
mediuni of conveying moral instructions so attractive or so successful. The inilu- 
cnce is far more powerful when the child is assured that they are true. We cannot 
Soo strongly recommend them to parents. — Western Continent, Baltimore. V 



NATIONAL SERIES OP AMERICAN HISTORIES. 

BY REV. JOSEPH BANVARD. 



0^- The attention of the public is invited to the following notices of Banvard'S 
HisTOUi KS. They contain a vast fund of just that kiml of information, i)rcsented in 
a style po <':esssing tdl the attracdrenpse and charm Cfftxtnuxnce, tofiich every American, 
whether old or young, should possess. 

PLYMOUTH ANB THE PILGRIMS; 

Or, Incidents of Adventures in the History of the First Settlers. 
"With Illustrations. 16mo, cloth, 60 cts. 

Mr. Banvaro has wrought a good work in collecting, arranging, and presenting 
in so graphic and agreeable a manner the leading incidents of an event which will 
ever wake to quicken while the " Pilgrim Rock " tells its story, or a drop of pilgrim 
blood warms the veins of a descendant — Bangor Mtrcury. 

The book, when once taken up, will not be laid down until finished. — Boston Conr. 

An interesting volume. The incidents are well chosen, and are described in that 
direct, simple, and sprightly manner, for which Mr. Bauvard is so justly esteemed, 
and which eminently qualifies him to be a writer for the young. — Am. Traveller. 

It is written in a terse and vigorous style, and is well adapted for popular reading, 
and particularly to entertain and instruct the youthful mind. — Mercantile Joumal. 

Every New Englander should own this book. — Scientific American. 

This is a beautifully executed and extremely interesting volume. It is written in 
a plain, but vigorous style, particularly adapted to the young, though it may be read 
with interest by the older ones. — Ch. Freeman. 

Highly attractive in style and instructive in matter, and well calculated to engage 
the attention of young persons. — N. Y. Com. Adv. 

Mk. Baxvakd has here produced a work that will be read with pleasure and in- 
struction by every one. The style is clear and forcible, and his manner of weav- 
ing incidents and character, and giving position to historical events, felicitous.— Bee. 

This book we predict will be, ere long, at the fireside of every descendant of the 
Pilgrims in New England.— Commonwealth. 

It is written in a pleasing style, abounding in incident, anecdote, and fact. The 
author has shelled the grain from the dry husks, and so spread a feast better adapted 
to the tastes and requirements of the young. — ^a»ii/er. 

This book will be read with peculiar interest by all who would learn the causet 
which gave to our country its peculiar religious and pohtical character. — Cabinet. 

There is no wori^ on American history of the same size which affords an equal 
amount of information. — Carpet Bag. 

It reminds us much of that admirable historical series for the young, Shr Walter 
Scott's Tales of a Grandfather. — Ch. Register. 

Treated with the talent and skill for which .Air. Banvard has become noted, as a de- 
scriptive and popular writer. — Watchman and Reflector, 

Few works will have a greater run, especially with youth. Many thrilling facts are 
either brought to light for the first time from musty records, or from tomes inacces- 
sible to the public generally. — Journal and Messenger. 

It is full of interest, abounding with vivid illustrations of fearless courage, en- 
during fortitude, ingenious strategy, and romantic adventure. It will find its way 
into every faniilj , — Willis's Home Journal. (a) 



NOVELTIES OF THE NEW WORLD; 

AN ACCOUNT OF THE ADVENTURES AND DIS- 

coveries of the First Explorers of North America. By 
Rev. Joseph Banvard, author of " Plymouth and the Pilgrims," etc. 
Being the second volume of Banvarb's Series of American His- 
tories. With numerous Illustrations. 16mo, cloth, 60 cts. 

KMe. Banvaed completes the series as he has begun, he will supply an impor- 
tant desideratum for the young — a series of books which will serve as valuable intro- 
ductions and enticements to more extended historical reading. The plan of the au- 
thor is to seize on the prominent and interesting points in the history of our country, 
and present them in a continuous and sprightly narrative. — Am. Traveller. 

We have seen the boys bend over these pages, unwilling to leave them, either for 
play or sleep ; and when finished, inquiring anxiously when the next would come. 
— Watchman and Reflector. 

It has all the interest of a romance. — Portland Transcript. 

Written in a felicitous style, which is neither too childish for adults, nor yet too 
difficult of comprehension for children, they will delight and instruct. — JowrnaZ. 

Some of the most interesting scenes and events in the New World are here brought 
together and invested with a charm that is irresistible by old or young. — Ch. Intel. 

The subject is handled in a masterly manner. — Olive Branch. 

This is a lively and entertaining history of some of the most romantic and important 
events in the early times of European explorations oi Amerlaa.— Commonwealth. 

Me. Banvaed has much of that talent, so rare and valuable, which enables its pos- 
sessor to interest and instruct the young. We are glad to see the romantic stories of 
our colonial times disinterred and reproduced from the ponderous volumes in which 
they have been buried, and brought forward irT aform adapted to the taste and ca- 
pacity of the youthful reader. —jV. Y. Recorder. 

It contains strange adventures filled with romance. The volume has also some 
fourteen good illustrations. — Express. 

The extraordinary hardships and thrilling incidents connected with the history of 
the early explorers, together with the charm which .Air. Banvard has thrown around 
it by his popular style of writing, renders it exceedingly interesting. — Ch. Sec. 

A very pleasant, instructive, and interesting book is this. The historical incidents, 
sketches of character, national customs, and amusing anecdotes told in it, give it a 
charm which even the grave scholar will acknowledge and approve. — Pair tot. 

The style is very agreeable, and his selection"of the most remarkable incidents very 
happy and judicious, and well calculated to improve the mind. — Sci. American. 

Much that is fresh for the reader, imparted with tact and spirit. - Home Journal. 

How " novel " was the " New World " when examined by the first explorers, and 
Mr. Banvard has gone over the ground in so charming a manner that he seems to 
have brought the scenes down to our own experience. Every page is absorbvujly in- 
teresting. — East Boston Gazette. 

The book only needs to be known to corimand readers.— Watchman of Prairies. 

The popularity of tue author, and the admirable productions of his pen, already so 
widely circulated, are a sufficient pledge ttat any thing from him will be found to 
possess sterling merit and worth. — Transcript. 

Me. Banvaed has hit upon a happy idea in this series of publications, and will no 
doubt find a full sanction in the public patronage. — Zion's Herald. 

The author possesses the art of making simple truth far more interesting than the 
wonders of fable. — Evergreen, /-y 



ROMANCE OF AMERICAN HISTORY; 



£. 



OR, AN ACCOUNT OF THE EARLY SETTLEMENT 
of North Carolina and Virginia, embracing a Narrative of 
the tragic Incidents connected with the Spanish Settlement at St. Augus- 
tine, the French Colonies at Roanoke, and the English Plantation at 
Jamestown; the Captivity of Captain John Smith, and the interesting 
Adventures of the youthful Pocahontas. By Rev. Joseph Banvardu 
Being the third volume of Banvard's Series of American Histo- 
ries. With numerous Illustrations. 16mo, cloth, 60 cts. 

This is the third volume of Mr. Banvard's attractive series of books founded on thS 
early history of our country ; and it will make a most valuable addition to all family 
and school libraries. — Arthur^ i Gazette. 

It has all the interest of romance and the additional interest of history. — Pur, Eeo, 

It is a volume just such as we like to see in the hands of intelligent youth, and just 
such as intelligent youth like to have given them. It shows that there were times 
that tried men's souls " long before the day of tlie Revolution." It unfolds the dan- 
gers that were passed, the trials endured, the labors undergone in order to wrest from 
savage men and a savage wilderness this fair and wide domain which we now en- 
joy. — Willis's Home Jouiiial. 

As interesting as a novel, and a thousand times more profitable. — iff. Messenger. 

Every library should contain this National Series of Histories. — If. E. Farmer. 

Admirably fitted for fireside, family reading. Its style is clear and simple ; its suc- 
cession of events happily chosen.— ^m. Traveller. 

No man has a better taste than Mr. Banvard for such a work. If any person can 
read his books without rising from the perusal of them with stronger love for the his- 
tory of his country, he must be diiferent from ordinary men. — Watch, of Prairies. 
No more instructive reading can be put into the hands of the young. — Por<. Trcn. 
It is difficult to say whether the entertaining or instructive predominates.— Arffui. 
It is just the book to interest young persons. It combines the interest of romance 
with the value of truth. — Zion's Herald. 

Mr. Banvaed has chosen a most entertaining theme'for the labors of his grace- 
ful and facile pen. The earlier history of the peopling of the American con- 
tinent by the Europeans is full of romantic and thrilling incident. It is a book for 
the aged, the middle aged, and the young ; a book for our youths and maidens ; a 
book to render us thankful for the virtues and heroism of our fathers, and for the 
blessings their suiferings and labors have entailed upon us. — Democratic Press. 

Mr. Banvaed's series of books upon the early history of America are full of fas- 
cinating interest. — Republican. 

The incidents are curious and deeply interesting. It is truly the romance of his- 
tory. — Religious Herald. 

A book of deep and thrilling interest, containing many interesting historical 
sketches of scenes that are not familiar to the young reader. — Ch. Secretary. 

This is a very interesting work. The personal incidents it records will be gratify- 
ing to the curious.— Ch. Observer. 

^- Other volumes of this popular series are in course of preparation. The series 
•mil embrace the most interesting and important events which have occurred in the 
United States since the settlement of the country. They will be adapted to the pop- 
ular mind, and especially lo the youth of our country, and will contain numerous 
fine engravings. There will be twelve or more 16mo volumes, of about 300 pages. 
Each volume to be complete in itself; and yet, when all are pubUshed, they will to- 
gether form a regular See'.es of American Histories. (c) 



LR8D?9 



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